BEST    NOVELS    BY   BEST  AUTHOR 


MADISON  SQUARE  SERIES. 


Dillingham's 

25  CENT  SERIES 

By  Mary  J.  Holmes, 

Tempest  and  Sunshine. 
'Lena  Rivera. 
The  English  Orphans. 
Marian  Grey. 
Darkness  and  Daylight. 
Cameron  Pride. 

By  Marlon  Harland. 

Alone  Sunnybank. 
True  as  Steel.  Moss  Side. 

The  Hidden  Path.  At  Last. 
Ruby  's  Husband.  Miriam. 
Nemesis. 

By  May  Agnes  Fleming. 

Guy  Barlecourtrs  Wife. 
A  Wonderful  Woman. 
A  Terrible  Secret. 
A  Mad  Marriage. 
A  Wife's  Tragedy. 
One  Night's  Mystery. 
Sharing  her  Crime. 
Silent  and  True. 
A  Wronged  Wife. 
Kate  Danton. 

By  Bertha  M.  Clay. 
Thrown  on  the  World. 
Lady  Damar's  Secret. 
A  Bitter  Atonement. 
Love  Works  Wonders. 
Evelyn's  Polly. 
A  Struggle  for  a  Ring. 

By  Georgie  Sheldon. 
Brownie's  Triumph. 
The  Porsaken  Bride. 
Earl  Wayne's  Nobility. 

By  Celia  IS.  Gardner. 
Rich  Medway's  Two  Loves. 
A  Woman's  Wiles. 
Stolen  Waters.  Tested. 

By  Julie  P.  Smith. 
Widow  Goldsmith's  Daughter. 
Chris  and  Otho. 

Ten  Old  Maids.      The  Widower. 

By  M.  T.  Walworth. 
Warwick.  Stormcliff. 
Hotspur.  Delaplaine. 
Lulu.  Beverly. 

By  Capt.  Mayne  Beid. 
The  Rifle  Rangers. 
The  Wood  Rangers. 
Osceola,  the  Seminole. 
The  Headless  Horseman. 
The  Wild  Huntress. 
Rangers  and  Regulators. 
The  White  Gauntlet. 
The  White  Chief 
The  Hunter's  Feast. 
The  War  Trail.         Lost  Lenore. 
The  Quadroon.  The  Maroon. 

The  Tiger  Hunter.     Wild  Life. 

By  Frank  Lee  Benedict. 
Madame.         Hammer  and  Anvil. 

'o-TViend.      A  Late  Remorse. 


By  Allan  Pinker  ton. 

Expressman  and  Detectives.  Claude  Melnotte  and  DeU 
Somnambulist  and  Detectives.  Bank  Robbers  and  Detect 

MISCELLANEOUS* 

Nick  Whiflles.   Dr.  J.  H.  Robinson. 

Doctor  Antonio.  By  RufBni. 

Pole  on  Whist,  with  Portland  Rules. 

Draw  Poker  without  a  Master. 

A  Doctor's  Don't?.   By  Perd.  C.  Valentine,  M.  D. 

A  Lawyer's  Don'ts.   By  Ingersoll  Lockwood. 

Habits  of  Good  Society. 

Love  [L' Amour].  Michelet 

Hand  Book  of  Popular  Quotations. 

Widow  Sprigsrfns.    By  Author  of  "  Widow  Bedott.'* 

Artemus  Ward.    Complete  and  Illustrated. 

Amber,  the  Adopted.    By  Mrs.  Harriet  Lewis. 

Country  Ballads.    Including  "  Betsy  and  I  are  out.'* 

Heart  Hungry.    By  M.  J.  Westmoreland. 

Led  Astray.    By  Octave  Feuillet. 

Arabian  Nights  Entertainments. 

The  Swiss  Family  Robinson. 

Don  Quixote.   By  Cervantes. 

Peerless  Cathleen.   By  Cora  Agnew. 

Robinson  Crusoe.   By  Daniel  DeFoe. 

They  are  the  handsomest  paper-bound  books 
market  and  sell  much  more  rapidly  than  any  other  line  o 
published.  ^ 

DILLINGHAM'S 

Madison  Square  and  other  25 » 

SERIES, 

TO  BE  ISSUED  MONTHLY  DURING  1892. 

Jan.    Norine's  Revenge.   By  May  Agnes  Fleming. 

MollieMaguires  and  the  Detectives.  By  Allan  Pin 

The  Scalp  Hunters.   By  Capt.  Mayne  Reid. 
Feb.    Was  He  Successful  ?   By  Richard  B.  Kimball. 

Criminal  Reminiscence's.    By  Allan  Pinkerton. 
Mar.    Faithful  Margaret.    By  Annie  Ashmore. 

The  Rail  Road  Forger  and  Detectives.   Allan  P 
April.  The  Married  Belle.    By  Julie  P.  Smith. 

A  Double  Life.    By  Allan  Pinkerton. 
May    Lady  Lenora.   By  Carrie  Conklin. 

The  Gypsies  and  the  Detectives.  By  Allan  Pinke. 
June.  Rose  Mather.   By  Mary  J.  Holmes. 

Spiritualists  and  Detectives.   By  Allan  Pink'  rton 

Estelle.   By  Mrs.  Annie  Edwardes. 
July.   Husbands  and  Homes.    By  Marion  Harland 

The  Model  Town  and  the  Detectives.  By  AD  in  Pinl 

A  Vagabond  Heroine.    By  Mrs.  Annie  Edwardes. 
Aug.  A  Woman's  Web.   By  C.  V.  Maitland. 

Strikers  and  Communists.   By  Alk'n  Pinkerton. 

A  Blue  Stocking.  By  Mrs.  Annie  Edwardes. 
Sept.  Pride  and  Passion.   By  May  Agnes  Fleming. 

Mississippi  Outlaws.   By  Allan  Pinkerton. 
Oct.    Terrace  Roses.    By  Celia  E.  Garrner. 

Bucholz  and  the  Detectives.  By  Allan  Pinkerton. 
Nov.   Virginia  Randall.    By  Richard  B.  Kimball. 

The  Burglar's  Fate.    By  Allan  Pinkerton. 
Dec.    Zahara.   By  M.  T.  Walworth. 

Professional  Thieves.    By  Allan  Pii  erton. 

These  books  will  all  be  bound  in  -  new  ar  d  beautiful  lith 
cover  and  will  be  the  largest  25  c  ..t  bool-  a  r  the  world. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00008781605 

ILT  TO  HILT 


From  the  MSS.  of  Colonel  Surrey  of  Eagle's  Nest, 


BY 


JOHN  ESTEN  COOKE, 


AUTHOR  OF 

FAIRFAX,"  "  SURREY  OF  EAGLE'S  NEST,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 

COPYRIGHT,  1890,  BY 

.   W.  Dillingham,  Publisher, 

Successor  to  G.  W.  Carleton  &  Co. 

MDCCCXC. 


r 


Fpt«red  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  18fl*,  bp 
tiEO.  W.  CAllLETON, 
Clara  e  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Uniu  i  States  fo  the 
District  of  New  lork 


CONTENTS. 


Prologue  ..     .,  #>     „  a- 

I'— In  "Mosby's  Confederacy"  fr  11 

IL— The  Night-Hawks   v 

III.  — Landon      ..      ..      ,c   •     <#     ##  2l 

IV.  — Knocked  from  the  Saddle   25 

V.— Captain  Blount    .    ..31 

VI — How  they  Managed  Matter*  on  the  Border  In  196*  ..  34 

VII.— An  Bye  for  an  Eye   ,  •„  ..36 

VIII — The  Night  March  ,      ,  ,  41 

IX.  — The  Old  Chapel  M 

X.  — Why  I  did  not  Return  with  Landon      ..  53 
XI. — How  I  Missed  my  Supper     «•  #„  ..65 

XII.— Captain  Ratcliffe  ..  -#  70 

XIII.  —  A  Moonlight  Ride         c  ~   77 

XIV.  — Arden's  Secret  81 

XV.— Arden  Dismounts  Me     .  -#  „  go 

XVI — One!  Two!  Three!  Fonr!  93 

XVII —  Winchester  100 

XVIII —  Early  and  some  Braves  of  the  Valley  Army  ..  ..107 
XIX — Fitzhugh  Lee,  the  Gay  and  Gallant   112 

XX. -The  Torch    w 

XXI.  — "Before  to-morrow  you  will  be  dead— or  I  will!"  ..  122 

XXII. — Lieutenant  Arden,  U.S.A.  126 

XXIII.— Bizarre        .      ..      #t      ##     ^     M      #<      #j  ^ 

XXTV.-Lover'a  Leap    ^ 

XXV.— Poison   l4ff 

*  ;   773238  T  g>/. 


VI  CONTEXTS. 

r*ea 

XXVI.— Nameless   15s 

XXVII. —"A  Trump f »   .  ..ley 

XXVIII— One  of  the  Bright  Spots  In  my  Memory  .170 

XXIX.— Blount's  Secret  176 

XXX.  —Touch-and-go  183 

XXXI.— The  Deserter  ,  190 

XXXII.— Antoinette  Duvaray    ..  .  195 

XXXIII.  — The  King  ..      ..      .  203 

XXXIV.  — The  Offer  and  Refusal       ,.      ~   209 

XXXV.— In  the  "Fox-Spring  Woods »  214 

XXXVI.— War  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shenandoah  In  1861  ..221 

XXXVII — No  Quarter   225 

XXXVIII.— "Partisan  Rancour"  ..  ,  228 

XXXIX.— The  Last  Knot  in  the  String   231 

XL.— Across  a  Grave   „.     ..     ..     ..  238 

XLI.— Arden's  Badges   ..  243 

XLII.— "Coward!  Coward!  Coward  I w  „     ,.     ..  246 
XLIII. — Nemesis   251 

Epilooub: 

I.— The  Blue  Courier   ..  .,259 

II.— My  Last  Look  at  the  Red-Cross  Flag  ••  ..263 
HL—  In  Arms  to  the  Last  9S/ 


PROLOGUE, 


Colonel  Surry  to  the  Reader. 

I  perform  a  bold  exploit  to-day,  my  dear  reader. 
The  exploit  in  question  is  sending  Hilt  to  Hili 
to  the  press. 

It  is  a  long  time  now  since  1866,  and,  if  you  have 
read,  you  have  probably  forgotten  the  volume  en- 
titled Surry  of  Eagle's  Nest. 

Alas  !  authors  must  expect  to  be  lost  sight  of 
as  the  years  flow  on.  I  am  not  so  vain  as  to  imag- 
ine you  remember  my  memoirs  ;  and,  for  a  stronger 
reason  still,  you  must  nave  forgotten  their  reception 
by  my  critical  friends  of  New  England.  They  were 
flayed  by  those  fierce  foemen.  I  recall  the  cere- 
mony with  a  nervous  shiver  Those  terrible  literary 
Camanches  brandished  the  tomahawk,  uttered  the 
war-whoop,  and  performed  a  dance  of  fearful  triumph 
around  the  prostrate  and  bleeding  victim. 

7 


a 


PBOLOGUE. 


The  unfortunate  memoirs  of  Colonel  Surry  were 
"highly-seasoned  .  .  .  duels  and  murderous 
settlements  of  deadly  feuds  kept  up  the  excite- 
ment y  .  .  .  the  author  need  not  fear  that  his 
portrait  of  Stuart  would  "bore  any  one  fifty  years 
hence,"  as  nobody  at  that  remote  period  would 
know  of  the  book's  existence  .  .  .  parts  were 
"cribbed  from  Dickens"  .  ,  "it  might  find 
a  good  market  with  the  '  New  York  Ledger.'  "  . 

.  the  style  was  "so  executively  florid,  that 
but  for  the  perpetual  flow  of  incident  it  would  be 
intolerable!"  .  .  .  and  "tb«  literary  execu- 
tion was  in  that  exaggerated  style  in  which  the 
Southern  writers  so  often  indulge  !  " 

All  this,  and  more,  descended  on  the  unfortunate 
Colonel  Surry. 

Well,  that  bon  mot  about  "fifty  years  hence" 
made  me  laugh.  The  phrases  "  excessively  florid  " 
and  "exaggerated  style"  made  me  reflect.  |j  Was  I 
then  so  very  florid  and  exaggerated,  as  my  friends 
declared?  I  had  supposed  the  MS.  of  Surry  of 
Eagle's  Nest  to  have  been  composed  in  a  most 
compact,  terse,  and  altogether  faultless  style ;  —  and 
here  was  a  great  critic,  and  a  critic  in  Boston, 


PROLOGUE 


9 


which  was  worse  still,  declaring  that  I  was  florid 
and  exaggerated ! 

What  to  do  ?  Alas !  Surry  of  Eagle's  Nest  was 
printed.  The  poor  youth  had  made  his  entrance 
into  the  bustling  world,  and  the  mischief  was  done. 
I  could  only  resolve  that,  in  future,  I  would  never 
be  florid  or  exaggerated  any  more  —  that  I  would 
avoid  the  errours  of  the  past :  another  flaying,  like 
that  received  from  the  Pilgrim  sons  of  New  Eng- 
land, would,  I  felt,  put  an  end  to  my  career. 

In  the  present  episode  of  my  memoirs,  therefore, 
good  reader,  which  I  call  Hilt  to  Hilt,  I  tell  a 
plain  and  unadorned  story.  I  hope  the  style  is  not 
florid ;  I  know  the  events,  strange  as  they  appear, 
are  not  exaggerated.  It  is  almost  impossible,  in- 
deed, to  exaggerate  the  wild  romance  of  that  Parti- 
san life  of  1864.  I  have  lived  in  the  midst  of  it; 
seen  it  with  my  eyes ;  known  and  spoken  with  the 
actors  in  it;  and  yet  I  assure  you  that  I  find 
it  difficult  to  realize  that  the  whole  was  not  a 
dream. 

Let  me  repeat  that  whatever  seems  strangest  in 
this  book  is  substantially,  when  not  literally,  true. 
There  were  one  or  two  additional  incidents  which  I 


10 


PROLOGUE. 


designed  to  relate.  I  have  not  related  them,  i  felt 
that  the  reader  would  call  me  a  "  sensation-writer." 

Here,  then,  worthy  reader,  I  present  yon  with  a 
brief  and  fierce  episode  in  the  strange  life  of  the 
Virginia  border,  in  the  autumn  of  1864. 

Some  of  the  men  who  figured  in  these  scenes  are 
dead.  Others  still  live,  and  will  tell  you  that  J 
exaggerate  pothing. 

Cubby  or  Eagle's  Nest. 


HILT  TO  HILT. 

L 

IN  "mosby's  confederacy." 

In  the  first  days  of  autumn,  1864,  I  left  Peters- 
burg,  where  Lee  confronted  Grant,  to  go  on  a  toui 
of  duty  to  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  wherG  Early  con- 
fronted Sheridan. 

This  journey  was  made  on  horseback,  and  I  en- 
countered upon  the  way  sc>>ie  curious  incidents  and 
remarkable  personages. 

Incidents  and  personages  suited  the  epoch ;  for, 
strangest  of  the  strange,  was  that  autumn  of  1864 ! 
Do  you  remember  it  reader  ?  For  ray  part,  I  shall 
never  forget  it.  On  all  sides,  doubt,  anxiety,  suffer- 
ing, —  a  sombre  defiance  mingled  with  despair.  From 
every  quarter,  — •  North,  South,  East,  and  West, — 
the  clash  of  arms ;  by  day  and  by  night,  on  the 
four  winds,  the  roar  of  cannon ;  in  the  trenches  by 
the  Appomattox,  the  incessant  rattle  of  skirmishers; 
in  the  fields  and  forests  of  the  border,  the  crack  of 
pistols  and  carbines.    The  war  mortal,  —  breast  ta 


12  iy  "M08BT8  CONFEDERACY." 


breast,  hilt  to  hilt.  The  country  desolate:  the  fields 
untilled ;  the  women  in  black,  weeping  for  dead  hus- 
bands; the  children  in  rags,  calling  for  dead  fathers! 

In  that  lugubrious  autumn  of  the  dark  year  '64. 
the  Southern  Enceladus  was  prostrate,  and  vainly 
writhed  beneath  the  mountains  piled  upon  him. 
Lee's  keen  and  trenchant  rapier  was  worn  to  the  hilt 
nearly;  and  the  red  flag,  so  long  borne  aloft  on  its 
point,  was  about  to  fall,  and  be  dragged  in  the  dust 
of  defeat;  but  never,  Heaven  be  thanked,  in  the  mire 
of  dishonour ! 

It  was  at  this  tragic  epoch  that  I  set  out  on  my 
horseback  journey  through  Virginia. 

Crossing  the  Rapidan  at  Raccoon  Ford,  above 
Chancellors  ville,  and  the  Rapp^-bannock  near  the 
little  village  of  Orleans,  I  pushed  on  through 
Fauquier,  gazing  with  curious  interest  on  the 
deserted  country  around  me.  It  was  a  very  different 
region  from  the  lowland  which  I  had  just  left,  and 
war  was  evidently  carried  on  here  in  a  very  different 
fashion.  At  Petersburg,  two  great  armies  faced 
each  other  behind  breast-works,  ■ —  sullen,  watchful, 
resembling  lions  about  to  spring;  and  these  liona 
were  fed  by  railroads  and  long  trains  of  wagons, 
going  and  coming  from  every  quarter.  Here,  in 
Fauquier,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  there  were 
no  armies,  no  railroads,  no  wagons,  and,  it  seemed, 
no  troops  of  any  description  whatever.  "Mosby'g 


IN  "MOSBTS  confederacy:'  13 


Confederacy,"  as  the  people  called  the  region,  was 
apparently  uninhabited.  I  went  on,  mile  after  mile, 
without  encountering  a  human  being.  The  roads 
were  deserted.  Stray  cattle  wandered  wild  on  the 
elopes  of  the  great  hills.  The  partridge,  long  un- 
molested, and  free  from  all  apprehension,  perched  on 
the  fence  beside  me  as  I  passed  along,  perfectly 
tranquil,  within  a  few  feet  of  my  pistol's  muzzle. 

This  physiognomy  of  the  landscape,  however,  did 
not  deceive  me.  I  knew  very  well  that  it  was  only 
the  chance  of  travel  which  enabled  me  thus  to  pass 
unchallenged ;  for  this  country  which  I  was  trav- 
ersing —  like  the  banks  of  the  Shenandoah  —  was 
notoriously  a  "Debatable  Land," — the  home  of 
the  scout  and  the  ranger.  On  these  deserted  roads 
took  place  those  incessant  combats  of  Mosby  and  his 
men  with  the  Federal  cavalry.  These  forests  were 
the  scenes  of  those  ambuscades,  surprises,  sudden 
collisions,  in  which  sabres  clashed,  pistols  and  car- 
bines rang,  and  yells  rose,  mingling  with  the  din  of 
hoofs,  as  the  blue  and  gray  rangers  came  together. 
Not  a  week  passed  here  but  the  autumn  leaves  were 
dyed  still  redder  with  the  blood  of  human  beings. 

Such  were  the  scenes  and  figures  which  peopled 
my  imagination  as  I  rode  on  through  the  forests  of 
Fauquier.  Under  the  tranquil  beauty  there  was 
something  sombre  and  menacing.  I  had  heard,  of 
this  land,  a  hundred  bloody  histories,  —  the  strangest 


I 

14  22V  "MOSBY'S  CONFEDERACY.91 

tales  of  private  feuds  and  secret  vengeances.  Here; 
on  the  war-harried  Virginia  border,  men  had  ap- 
peared mysteriously,  coming,  none  knew  whence; 
had  joined  the  Partisans  under  names  which  were 
clearly  assumed;  had  fought  with  deadly  rancour; 
fallen  unnoted,  and  disappeared  as  the  autumn  leaf 
flits  away  on  the  wind,  swallowed  up  with  their 
mystery  in  oblivion.  Men  hated  each  other  bitterly 
everywhere,  in  1864 ;  but  north  of  the  Rappahan- 
nock, and  along  the  banks  of  the  Shenandoah,  there 
seemed  to  be  something  terrible  and  bloody  in  the 
very  atmosphere,  which  inflamed  the  heart,  and 
drove  to  mad  excesses  all  who  breathed  it. 

Such  was  the  Border  during  the  last  months  of 
the  war ;  and  it  is  a  page  from  the  unpublished  his- 
tory of  this  strange  "  place  and  time  —  the  banks 
of  the  Shenandoah  between  Winchester  and  the  Blue 
Ridge,  in  1864  —  that  I  beg  leave  to  lay  before  the 
reader. 

After  a  day  and  night  at  "  The  Oaks,"  the  resi- 
dence of  my  friend,  Colonel  Beverley,  near  Mark- 
ham,  I  resumed  my  journey;  and,  followiog  the 
mountain  road  through  a  gorge  of  the  Blue  Ridge, 
reached  about  sunset  the  small  village  of  Paris. 

Paris  lies,  like  a  hawk's  nest,  in  that  gash  of  the 
mountain  called  Ashby's  Gap.  At  that  time  it 
might  have  been  compared  with  more  fitness  to  a 
sentinel  posted  to  watch  the  gorge  and  give  the 


IN  "MOSBY'S  GONFEDEBA OY."  15 

alarm  on  the  approach  of  an  enemy.  That  tnemy 
frequently  made  his  appearance.  Sheiidan  lay  on 
the  Opequon,  watching  his  daring  opponent,  Early ; 
and  scouting  parties  of  Federal  cavalry  passed  and 
repassed,  almost  daily,  through  the  gap,  on  the  look- 
out for  Confederates.  Like  the  whole  country,  Paris 
appeared  poverty-stricken  and  melancholy.  The 
houses  were  nearly  deserted;  the  fences  had  been 
pulled  down ;  the  sign-board  of  the  old  tavern  was 
hanging  by  one  corner ;  the  tavern  itself  was  dis- 
mantled; grass  grew  in  the  streets  of  the  hamlet, 
and  scarce  a  cur  yelped.  There  is  a  picture  "in 
little  "  of  a  Virginia  village  in  1864. 

In  front  of  the  rickety  tavern  some  horses  were 
standing  bridled  and  saddled.  On  the  low  fence 
were  sitting  several  officers  and  men  in  gray. 
Among  these  I  recognized  Colonel  F  ,  of  Gen- 
eral Longstreet's  staff,  who  got  down  and  came  to 
meet  me.  We  exchanged  a  cordial  greeting.  I  gave 
him  the  news  from  Petersburg,  and  then  asked  him 
in  turn  for  intelligence  from  the  Valley. 

"Nothing,"  was  his  reply.  "Early  is  still  at 
Winchester,  and  Sheridan  on  the  Opequon,  —  afraid 
to  attack." 

"  How  is  the  country  around  Millwood,  on  the 

other  side  of  the  gap?" 

"  Full  of  Yankees,  with  a  heavy  picket  at 

Berry's  Ferry." 


16  IN  "MOSBY'S  CONFEDERACY." 


This  was  discouraging,  as  I  wished  to  go  on  to  the 
house  of  a  friend  near  White  Post,  that  evening. 
To  retrace  my  steps,  and  entor  the  Valley  by  Manas- 
sas Gap,  seemed  absurd. 

"  I  think  I'll  try  and  get  over  somewhere,  1  I 
said 

"  Get  over  —  to-night  ?"  exclaimed  the  colonel. 
"Yes." 

"You'll  certainly  be  captured." 
"I  will  risk  it." 

"  Well,  good  luck  to  you,  my  dear  fellow.  Shake 
hands  :  I  always  like  to  take  affectionate  leave  of  a 
friend  who  is  about  to  '  go  up.'  " 

We  exchanged  a  grasp  of  the  hand  amid  general 
laughter  from  the  crowd,  and  my  friend  went  back 
to  his  perch  on  the  fence.  I  turned  my  horse's 
head  up  the  mountain. 

I  had  not  gone  twenty  steps  when  I  heard  the 
colonel  call  after  me. 

"  I  say,  Surry  !  " 

I  turned  my  head. 

"Give  my  love  to  any  friends  of  mine  you  meet 
in  Washington  1 "  * 

It  was  with  this  most  cheerful  of  "  last  greetings  " 
still  ringing  in  my  ears  that  I  went  on  up  th« 
mountain. 

•  His  word*. 


11 


THis  NIGHT-HAWKS. 

owxy  ascending  the  steep  road,  I  reacnea  tne 
M  Big  Poplar,"  a  well-known  tree  on  the  summit  of 
the  mountain,  just  as  the  last  rays  of  sunset  were 
bathing  in  red  and  orange  the  autumn  foliage. 

From  the  direction  of  Winchester  came  the  dull 
mutter  of  cannon,  and  an  occasional  carbine  shot 
was  heard  in  front  from  the  picket  at  the  ford.  All 
this  was  in  disagreeable  contrast  with  the  tranquil 
beauty  of  the  landscape.  The  sides  of  the  Gap 
burned  with  the  first  fiery  tints  of  autumn.  The 
blue  mountains,  melting  into  haze,  rolled  far  away 
southward,  like  gigantic  billows.  Through  the 
gorge,  flushed  with  sunset,  lay  the  beautiful,  the 
enchanting,  the  wonderfal  Valley  of  the  Shenandoah. 

It  seemed  a  sacrilege  to  desecrate  this  fairy  region, 
—  to  trample  these  sweet  fields  beneath  the  iron  heel 
of  war.  But  the  heel  was  upon  them.  The  land 
was  a  waste.  Every  pass  was  guarded.  Not  even 
the  solitary  and  inoffensive  Surry  could  get  across 
the  mountain  to  his  friends,  without  imminert  dan- 
ger of  capture. 

2  *  17 


18 


the  mam  hawks. 


I  had  determined,  however,  to  attempt  it.  By 
flanking  the  picket  in  fro^t,  and  crossing  at  tbs 
private  and  unused  ford,  called  "  The  Island,"  below, 
I  hoped  to  make  my  way  unperceived  to  the  house 
of  the  friend  referred  to,  who  lived  beyond  Millwood. 

To  the  execution  of  this  scheme  I  now  proceeded. 
Night  was  rapidly  descending,  and,  by  the  time  I 
reached  the  Mount-Carmel  road,  branching  off  to  my 
right,  it  was  dark. 

I  had  scarcely  gone  two  hundred  yards  on  the 
narrow  mountain  road,  half  concealed  beneath  ever- 
greens and  overhanging  rocks,  when  all  at  once  a 
3hadow  seemed  to  rise  from  the  earth  in  front  of  me. 
I  heard  the  click  of  a  trigger,  and  a  voice  said :  — 

"Halt!    Who  goes  there?" 

"  Friend,"  I  replied,  cocking  my  pistol  under  my 
cape. 

"  What  command?  "  said  the  voice. 
"Army  of  Northern  Virginia.    What  do  you 
belong  to?" 

"The  Night-Hawks,"  was  the  reply  of  the 
shadow. 

A  brief  silence  followed. 

"  Good  !  "  I  said,  at  length.  "  I  never  heard  of 
the  Night-Hawks,  but  I  know  you  are  a  Virginian 
from  your  voice,  and  from  your  post  on  this  road. 
I  am  going  to  cross  at  the  Island." 

"I  will  ride  with  you  "  said  the  horseman. 


THE  NIGHT-HAWKS. 


19 


I  assented  to  this  at  once,  and  we  rodfi  on  in  the 
darkness  side  by  side,  in  silence. 

Descending  the  rugged  declivity,  we  reached  tho 
banks  of  the  river,  overhung  by  the  white  arms  of 
immense  sycamores,  plunged  into  the  water,  and, 
half  fording,  half  swimming,  reached  the  Island,  and 
then  the  western  bank. 

Crossing  a  small  field  we  entered  a  forest  which 
seemed  uninhabited,  except  by  the  owls,  whose  weird 
laughter  was  heard  in  the  thicket,  or  the  whippoor- 
wills,  crying  plaintively  from  the  interwoven  festoons 
between  the  great  sycamores.  We  had  scarcely  gone 
fifty  steps  in  the  wood,  however,  when  a  second 
shadow  rose  in  the  path ;  challenged,  was  responded 
to  in  a  low  voice  by  my  companion:  and  we  con- 
tinued our  way. 

I  have  been  on  dark  marches.  Once  with  Gen- 
eral Stuart,  near  Chantilly,  in  1862,  we  rode  on 
through  a  night  so  murky  that  our  horses  resembled 
black  phantoms  breasting  a  sea  of  ink.  But  that 
ride  through  the  woods  of  the  Shenandoah  surpassed 
all. 

All  at  once,  however,  a  weird  light  filtrated 
through  the  boughs,  and  I  glanced  over  my  shoulder. 
The  moon  had  just  soared  above  the  pine-clad  sum- 
mit of  the  Blue  Ridge,  like  a  great  shield  bathed  iit 
blood. 


20 


THE  N1GHT-HAWR8. 


Then  the  wood  opened  before  us,  and  a  small  glade 
revealed  itself,  completely  walled  in  with  thickets. 

Suddenly  I  saw  the  gleam  of  a  red  Confederate 
battle-flag;  and  in  the  glade  twenty  or  thirty  horses 
stood  fully  equipped.  Beside  them  lay  their  riders, 
—  every  man  holding  his  bridle,  and  ready  to  mourn* 
at  a  moment's  noiie©. 


ox 


Erect,  in  the  centre  of  the  wild  and  picturesque 
group,  stood  a  man,  leaning  one  heavily  gauntleted 
hand  on  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  the  other  on  the 
hilt  of  a  light  sabre. 

He  was  apparently  about  twenty  five  or  six ;  and  his 
plain  gray  coat,  buttoned  from  top  to  bottom,  defined 
a  figure,  straight,  supple,  and  vigourous.  Around 
his  waist  he  wore  a  red  sash ;  his  boots  reached 
above  the  knee ;  over  his  forehead  drooped  a  brown 
hat,  with  the  black  cavalry  feather.  The  face,  which 
the  moonlight  clearly  revealed,  was  a  striking  one. 
In  the  penetrating  eyes,  and  the  lips,  half  covered 
with  a  shaggy  moustache,  could  be  read  something 
cool,  resolute,  and  u  thoruigb-bred."  Never  was 
will  written  plainer  on  human  countenance.  This 
man  evidently  belonged  to  that  class  who  think,  de- 
cide, and  act  for  themselves,  preserving  through  all  an 
invincible  coolness.  In  the  face,  for  the  rest,  there 
was  something  hard  and  impassive.  One  glance  at 
him  convinced  me  that  he  had  passed  through  soms 
terrible  ordeal,  and  had  come  out,  steel. 


22 


LAN  DON. 


I  was  sure  that  I  had  seen  him  somewhere ;  but 
was  completely  at  a  loss  to  determine  where  or  when, 

I  approached  with  my  companion. 

"  Who  is  that  ?  ';  he  said,  in  the  brief  tone  of 
command. 

He  glanced  at  me  keenly.  Then  all  at  once,  be- 
fore my  friend  of  the  Mount-Carmel  xoad  could  re- 
ply, the  Partisan  added  coolly ;  — 

"lam  glad  to  see  you,  Colonel  Surry  !  " 

With  which  words  he  advanced  a  step,  made  me 
the  bow  of  a  nobleman,  and,  drawing  off  his  yellow 
gauntlet,  offered  me  his  hand. 

"  Ah  !  you  know  me,  captain!  "  I  said,  taking 
the  hand,  which  was  white  and  slender,  but  had  the 
grip  of  a  vice. 

"  Perfectly,  colonel;  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  you  in  the  army." 

Suddenly  I  remembered. 

"  And  I  have  seen  you,  captain.  It  was  near  Ma- 
nassas last  October,  when  the  cavalry  followed  Meade 
after  Bristoe.  We  came  to  a  barricade  near  Yates' 
ford ;  the  leading  squadron  wavered  before  the  vol- 
leys of  the  sharpshooters;  you  took  the  front, 
charged  over  the  felled  trees,  and  drove  the  enemy. 
General  Stuart  paid  you  a  magnificent  compliment 
on  that  occasion,  and  never  was  on  e  beHer  deserved, 
—  Captain  St.  Leger !  " 


/ 


LAND  ON.  23 

The  partisan  gave  me  one  of  his  penetrating 
glances. 

"  My  name  is  Landon,  colonel,"  he  said,  with  per- 
fect calmness. 

I  looked  at  him  with  undisguised  astonishment. 

"And  yet  I  could  swear  it  was  you  that  made 
that  charge  !  Is  it  possible  that  two  human  beings 
can  resemble  each  other  so  strangely?  " 

For  a  moment  he  made  no  reply.  He  was 
evidently  hesitating. 

"  You  were  not  that  officer?  "  I  said. 

"  Well,  yes,  colonel,  the  officer  in  question  was 
myself,  and  at  tha+  time  I  was  called  St.  Leger.  I 
have  since  resumed  my  real  name,  or  rather  the  full 
name  of  which  the  former  was  a  portion." 

"  Your  real  name?  " 

"  St.  Leger  Landon,  at  your  service,"  returned 
the  Partisan,  coolly,  and  making  me  a  bow. 

Before  I  could  reply,  our  colloquy  was  brought 
suddenly  to  an  end. 

"  All  right,  captain !  "  said  a  low  voice,  behind 
the  Partisan. 

And  a  boy  of  about  sixteen,  mild,  fair-haired,  and 
gentle  in  appearance,  advanced  noiselessly  into  the 
area. 

''Touch-and-go!"  said  the  paitisan,  "well,  hon 
many  ?" 

"  Seventy  or  eighty,  captain." 


] 


24  LAND  ON. 

*kThat  is  three  horses  apiece  for  the  command 
Lieutenant  Arden." 

A  young  man  of  about  twenty-two  rose  quickly 
liora  among  the  prostrate  figures,  and  approached, 
saluting.  There  was  something  gay  and  gallant  in 
his  sparkling  eyes  and  smiling  lips,  but  what  chiefly 
impressed  me  was  the  singular  sweetness  and 
modesty  of  his  bearing  and  expression. 

Landon  introduced  me  to  the  young  lieutenant ; 
gave  him  some  rapid  orders,  and  then  turned  to  me. 

"I  am  going  to  attack  the  picket  at  the  river, 
colonel,  —  will  you  look  on  ?  " 

' £  I  will  do  better,  captain,  —  take  a  hand,  —  if  I 
am  allowed  to  rank  as  a  Night-Hawk,  and  keep  the 
fresh  horse  I  capture." 

' £  You  shall  keep  half  a  dozen  if  you  choose,  colo- 
nel." 

And  Landon  vaulted  into  the  saddle  with  an  ease 
which  showed  the  perfect  horseman,  the  thorough 
cavalier,  who  would  stop  at  nothing. 

"  Attention  !  " 

Before  the  sound  of  his  voice  had  died  away,  every 

man  was  in  the  saddle. 
"  Unfurl  the  flag  !  " 
The  order  was  obeyed. 

Then,  as  silently  as  though  they  had  been  a  party 
of  phantoms,  the  little  band  began  to  move  beneath 
the  shadowy  foliage  toward  the  picket. 


IV. 


KNOCKED  FROM  THE  SADDLE. 

The  little  band  of  Night-Hawks  had  gone  about 
half  a  mile,  when,  through  an  opening  in  the  forest, 
we  caught  a  gleam  from  the  moonlit  river. 

On  the  bank,  beneath  some  great  sycamores,  was 
a*  dusky  and  confused  group  of  men  and  horses. 
From  this  group  rose  a  stifled  hum. 

All  at  once,  Touch-and-go  laid  his  hand  upon 
Landon's  arm. 

"  Hist !  captain,"  he  whispered;  uyou  are  almost 
on  the  vidette." 

" Where  is  he?" 

"  Just  beyond  that  thicket." 

!i  Can  you  capture  him  without  noise  ?  " 

Touch-and-go  made  a  silent  movement  with  his 
head. 

"I  will  halt,  then,"  said  Landon.  And  with  a 
gesture  he  halted  the  column. 

Touch-and-go  had  dismounted ;  had  gone  forward 
stealthily  on  foot ;  and  not  a  s®und  was  heard. 

Five  minutes  passed  thus ;    then  two  figures 

25 


26 


KNOCKED  FROM  THE  SADDLE. 


emerged  from  the  shadow :  it  was  Touch-and-go  with 
his  prisoner. 

"  Good  !  "  said  Landon.  "  You  don't  make  much 
noi3e." 

"  I  put  my  pistol  to  his  head,  and  he  surrendered 
without  a  word." 

Landon  turned  to  the  prisoner,  a  black-browed  in- 
dividual in  blue,  and  was  about  to  speak,  when  one 
of  the  horses  of  the  party  uttered  a  shrill  neigh. 

"  Look  out,  captain,"  said  Touch-and-go,  in  a  low 
voice,  "  that  will  put  them  on  their  guard." 

"  Right !  "  exclaimed  Landon,  and,  drawing  his  sa- 
bre, he  struck  the  spur  into  his  horse,  and  shouted , 
•<  Charge  !  " 

The  column  swept  forward  like  a  storm-wind,  and 
fell  with  loud  yells  on  the  picket,  which  ran  hastily 
to  horse.  It  was  too  late.  Landon' s  men  were  in 
the  midst  of  them,  banging  with  the  pistol  and  slash- 
ing with  the  sabre. 

It  was  a  scene  of  the  wildest  confusion,  and  noth- 
ing was  heard  but  shouts,  groans,  and  yells.  The 
officer  commanding  the  Federal  picket  attempted 
vainly  to  rally  his  men.  They  fled  wildly  from  the 
river,  over  the  road  to  Millwood,  with  the  Rangers 
pressing  them  at  every  step.  That  moonlight  sur- 
prise and  chase  was  singular.  I  will  always  remember 
it ;  and  nothing  remains  so  distinctly  in  my  mind  as 


KNOCKED  FBOM  THE  SADDLE. 


27 


the  figure  of  Landon,  as  he  rushed  upon  the  track  of 
the  officer  commanding  the  Federals. 

Landon  had  seemed  to  disdain  all  other  opponents, 
and  evidently  sought  this  one  alone.  When  the 
Federal  officer  followed  his  flying  picket,  the  Partisan 
singled  him  out,  drove  his  horse  onward  on  the  track 
of  the  fugitive,  with  bloody  spurs ;  and  when  within 
sight  of  Millwood,  just  above  a  mill,  I  saw  him  come 
up  with  his  adversary. 

As  the  Partisan  reached  his  side,  the  sabres 
gleamed  in  the  moon,  and  a  ringing  clash  followed. 
Landon  had  delivered  the  "right  cut;"  his  weapon 
had  encountered  his  opponent's  guard ;  the  Parti  - 
san's sabre  was  shivered. 

He  dropped  the  stump,  drew  his  pistol,  and  fired 
every  barrel,  with  the  muzzle  resting  almost  on  the 
Federal  officer's  breast.  Every  charge  missed;  the 
speed  of  the  horses  was  so  great  that  no  human  aim 
could  be  relied  on. 

Suddenly  a  loud  cheer  was  heard  from  the  direc- 
tion of  Millwood;  a  din  of  smiting  hoofs  mingled  with 
it,  and  the  long  continuous  splash  of  a  column  pass- 
ing through  a  little  stream  in  front,  indicated  that  a 
heavy  reinforcement  of  Federal  cavalry,  alarmed  by 
the  firing,  was  pressing  forward. 

They  were  not  three  hundred  yards  distant ;  their 
drawn  sabres  flashed  in  the  moonbeams.  As  well  as  I 


28 


KNOCKED  FROM  THE  SADDLE. 


could  make  out,  they  numbered  about  two  nundred 
men. 

Landon  had  just  fired  his  last  barrel,  when  the 
enemy  came  on  at  a  headlong  gallop.  I  saw  a  flash 
dart  from  the  Partisan's  eye ;  his  white  teeth  gnawed 
the  under  lip.  Burying  both  rowels  in  the  sides  of 
his  horse,  he  was,  in  an  instant,  beside  the  Federal 
officer  of  the  picket,  and,  raising  his  pistol,  struck  him 
with  the  weapon  over  the  head. 

The  blow  was  enough  to  fell  an  ox.  The  officer 
dropped  his  rein,  fell  from  the  saddle,  and,  his  foot 
hanging  in  the  stirrup,  was  dragged  onward  by  his 
flying  animal,  and  disappeared. 

At  the  same  instant,  from  the  leading  platoon  of 
the  Federal  cavalry,  came  a  shower  of  bullets.  Lan- 
don coolly  snapped  his  empty  pistol  in  their  faces, 
turned  his  horse,  and,  galloping  down  the  declivity  to 
the  mill,  drew  up  his  men  upon  the  slope  just  be- 
yond, to  receive  the  Federal  charge. 

It  came  and  swept  all  before  it.  For  a  moment 
the  air  was  full  of  pistol  and  carbine  shots,  clashing 
blades  and  resounding  shouts.  Then  Landon' s  men 
were  driven  with  the  sabre.  With  the  enemy  close 
upon  their  heels,  banging  and  slashing,  the  Night- 
Hawks  retreated  rapidly  past  the  debouchement  of 
the  Bethel  road,  toward  the  Shenandoah. 

This  was  the  position  of  affairs,  when,  by  one  of 
those  sudden  incidents,  which  render  Partisan  com- 


KNOCKED  FBOM  THE  SADDLE.  29 


bats  so  exciting,  the  whole  face  of  things  was 
changed. 

Landon  had  been  swept  back  more  than  half  a 
mile ;  had  leaped  the  stone  fence  on  the  side  of  the 
turnpike,  and  was  pouring  a  hot  fire  into  the  enemy's 
flank,  as  they  charged  by,  when,  suddenly,  rapid 
firing,  accompanied  by  loud  shouts,  was  heard  in  the 
Federal  rear.  At  that  sound,  the  leading  squadron 
paused,  half  undecided.  Landon  decided  them. 
Leaping  into  the  road  with  ten  or  fifteen  men  he 
made  an  obstinate  charge,  the  Federals  gave  back, 
and,  extending  his  arm,  Landon  uttered  a  shout  of 
fierce  triumph. 

I  followed  the  direction  of  his  finger.  The  crest 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Bethel  road  was  swarming  with 
gray  horsemen,  at  least  a  hundred,  apparently,  in 
number.  They  had  fallen  on  the  Federal  rear; 
were  now  firing  and  cutting  among  them;  and  it 
was  scarcely  ten  minutes  before  the  entire  force  of 
blue  horsemen  was  retreating,  hotly  pursued,  through 
the  village  of  Millwood,  toward  Berry  ville. 

Never  was  work  done  better  or  more  rapidly.  The 
Federal  horse  were  swept  away  as  leaves  are  swept  by 
the  wind.  The  sudden  surprise  had  completely  "  de- 
moralized "  them,  —  a  misfortune  which  will  occur, 
under  such  circumstances,  to  all  but  the  best  troops  • 
and  the  combat  had  become  a  mere  fox-chase. 

My  horse  was  killed  under  me  as  I  was  passing 


30  KNOCKED  FROM  THE  SADDLE. 


the  mill  in  pursuit ;  but  I  had  onl j  to  mount  one  of 
tweuty  which  were  running  about  riderless. 

Seizing  a  fine  bay  by  the  bridle,  I  threw  myself 
into  the  saddle,  and  soon  rejoined  Landon,  beyond 
Millwood.  He  had  given  up  further  pursuit,  sent  to 
recall  his  men,  and  was  sitting  his  horse  in  the 
middle  of  the  turnpike. 

'*  The  dead  go  fast,"  I  heard  him  mutter,  as  I 
rode  to  his  side.  ul  ponder  if  it  was  that  wretcL, 
or  his  ghost?  " 


Y. 


CAPTAIN  BLOUNT. 

The  officer  who  had  come  so  opportunely  to  out 
assistance  was  Captain  Blount,  one  of  the  mos1 
daring  Partisans  of  the  war. 

I  had  met  Captain  Blount  incidentally  in  1863, 
and,  as  we  slowly  rode  back  now  together  toward 
Millwood,  I  looked  with  interest  at  a  man  of  whom 
I  had  heard  so  much. 

He  appeared  to  be  between  twenty-five  and  thirty ; 
his  figure  was  graceful ;  his  seat  in  tho  saddle  per- 
fect ;  his  countenance  full  of  unassuming  courtesy, 
and  the  expression  of  his  eyes  soft,  pensive,  al- 
most sad.  It  was  difficult  to  recognize  in  ^is  mild 
and  retiring  personage,  so  cordial  and  gentle,  the 
hero  of  a  hundred  desperate  encounters.  Of  hia 
skill  as  a  swordsman,  I  had,  however,  witnessed  a 
striking  evidence.  In  the  pursuit  through  Millwood 
he  had  crossed  swords  with  a  Federal  officer  who 
was  evidently  an  accomplished  sabreicr ;  fought  hilt 
to  hilt  with  him,  in  single  combat,  for  nearly  ten 
minutes ;  and  finally  killed  his  adversary  by  driving 
his  sabre,  at  tierce  point,  through  him  from  breast 

n 


32  CAPTAIN  BLOUNT. 

to  back.  The  officer  had  thown  up  his  arms,  reeled 
and  fallen  Blount  continued  the  pursuit ;  only  his 
sabre  was  bloody. 

Returning  now,  after  this  hard  work,  nothing 
could  be  imagined  more  simple  and  unassuming  than 
his  bearing.  But  a  spectacle  which  greeted  us  near 
the  village  made  the  mild  eye  flash  The  Federal 
troopers  had  picketed  their  horses  to  the  fence  around 
the  grounds  of  the  little  church,  nestling  amid  its 
green  trees,  laid  waste  the  grounds,  broken  open  the 
sacred  edifice,  and  torn  to  pieces  the  organ. 

Blount  looked  at  the  broken  door  of  the  church, 
the  torn-down  pews,  and  the  fragments  of  the  organ 
scattered  over  the  lawn. 

"These  are  Scythians,  indeed!"  he  muttered, 
quoting  the  words  of  Napoleon ;  "  there  is  nothing 
to  do  but  to  hunt  down  and  kill  every  mam  of 
them." 

"  A  maxim  which  you  religiously  carry  out, 
Blount,"  said  Landon ;  "  but  how  did  you  hap- 
pen to  arrive  in  such  goxl  time  to-night?" 

"  By  accident,  my  dear  Landon.  I  was  going  on 
a  scout  along  the  Opequon,  when  I  heard  the  firing, 
and  thought  it  was  you.  I  am  glad  I  was  near; 
and,  as  the  affair  is  over  now,  I  believe  I  will  go 
on." 

Having  uttered  these  words  in  his  mild  and  cotu> 


CAPTAIN  BLOUNT. 


33 


teous  v>ice.  Captain  Blount  offered  me  his  hand, 
gave  me  a  cordial  invitation  to  visit  him  when  it  was 
convenient,  and,  after  exchanging  a  pressure  of  the 
hand  with  'Landon,  moved  off  with  his  squadron  of 
about  seventy-five  men  toward  the  Opeqaon. 

I  was  still  looking  after  the  retreating  shadows, 
when  one  of  the  Partisans  rode  up,  leading  a  mag- 
nificent bay. 

"Here  is  the  Yankee  officer's  horse,  captain, — 
the  one  you  knocked  out  of  the  saddle,"  he  said. 

Landon  glanced  at  the  animal. 

"  They  must  have  carried  off  the  captain,  but  he 
has  left  his  horse  and  his  papers,"  said  the  man. 

"His  papers?"  said  Landon,  quickly. 

The  man  pointed  to  the  saddle-pockets,  and  drew 
forth  a  bundle  of  official  documents. 

Landon  rapidly  tore  them  open,  and  glanced  at 
them  by  the  light  of  the  moon.  His  face  was  lost 
in  the  shadow,  and  I  did  not  see  its  expression. 

"Then  it  was  not  his  ghost,"  muttered  the  Par- 
tisan ;  "  and  he  is  not  dead,  after  all ! " 
8 


VI. 


hOW   IRBt   MANAGED   MATTERS  ON   THE  BORDE8 

IN  1864. 

London  had  turned  his  horse  to  ride  down  the 
hill,  in  the  direction  of  the  village,  when  one  of  hia 
men  came  up  rapidly,  and.  drawing  rein  at  his  side, 
spoke  to  him  in  a  low  vok#. 

I  did  not  catch  the  wot  is,  but  the  blood  rushed 
suddenly  to  Landon's  cht^k. 

"  Where  ?  "  he  s^id,  abruptly. 

"In  the  flat  beyond  the  stream,  captain." 

Without  a  word  Landon  darted  at  full  gallop 
down  the  hill,  passed  through  Millwood,  and,  as  I 
reached  his  side  in  the  field  beyond,  I  saw  him  check 
bis  horse  suddenly  near  an  oak,  which  stood,  solitary 
and  alone,  in  the  open  ground. 

From  the  boughs  of  this  oak  were  hanging  three 
corpses. 

"  Look,  captain,"  said  the  man  who  had  kept  be- 
side him;  "it  is  Robinson,  Walters,  and  Andrews, 
—  three  of  our  best  man." 

Land$2i  spurred  his  horse  up  until  the  animal 
shied  violently  at  thi»  near  approach  to  the  fearful 

34 


MATTEBS  ON  THE  BOBBER  IN  1864. 


35 


looking  objects.  The  three  men  were  clad  in  gray, 
and  their  ghastly  faces  were  convulsed  by  the  last 
agony. 

Suddenly  Landon  forced  his  horse  close  to  the 
trunk,  and  tore  down  a  paper  which  was  attached 
to  it. 

On  this  paper  was  written,  in  heavy  black  let- 
ters :  — 

"  Such  is  the  fate  of  the  Night- Hawks. 

"  By  command  of 

"Capt.  Katcliffe." 

Landon  read  these  words  by  the  light  of  the 
moon,  looked  up  at  the  corpses,  folded  up  the  pa- 
per slowly,  and,  turning  to  the  man  beside  him, 
said :  — 

"  Order  my  command  to  assemble  here,  and  bring 
the  prisoners  taken  from  the  picket  at  the  river." 

I  had  reached  his  side  as  he  uttered  these  words, 
and  he  held  out  to  me  the  paper  which  he  had  taken 
from  the  tree-trunk. 

(J  It  is  frightful,"  I  said;  "and  what  course  will 
you  pursue,  captain  ?  " 

With  an  icy  glance  the  Partisan  replied :  — 

"The  lex  talionis  is  my  code,  colonel,  —  an  eye 
for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth." 

A3  he  spoke,  the  numbers  of  his  command  were 
seen  approaching,  with  about  a  dozen  prisoners. 


YIL 


AN  EYE  FOR  AN  EYE. 

Death  in  battle  is  one  thing ;  it  seems  aatural. 
Death  by  a  military  execution  is  another  thing,  and 
seems  unnatural,  repulsive,  and  horrible.  One  stirs 
the  pulses,  for  it  is  tragic  and  terrible.  The  other 
revolts  the  feelings,  for  it  is  disgusting. 

Other  considerations  induce  me  to  omit  a  minute 
account  of  the  fierce  spectacle  which  I  witnessed 
that  night.  Melodrama  !  —  claptrap  ! 5J  some  good 
people  would  be  apt  to  exclaim.  And  for  fear  of 
these  terrible  critics,  it  beho  ves  those  who  write  their 
own  adventures  to  consult  the  vraisemblable  rather 
than  the  vrai. 

These  things  occurred,  and  will  not  be  believed. 
Let  me  therefore  pass  rapidly  over  the  event  of  that 
night  of  1864. 

The  prisoners  were  ranged  in  a  line  with  the  men 
of  the  band  opposite,  and  Landon  sat  his  horse 
looking  at  the  former.  His  face  was  perfectly  calm, 
and  he  did  not  utter  a  word.  When  the  preparations 
had  been  made,  and  a  sergeant  had  reported  witSi 
finger  to  his  hat,  Landor  turned  to  me. 

36 


AN  EYE  FOB  AN  EYE. 


37 


"Colonel  Surry he  said,  "lam  glad  you  are 
here  to-night  and  can  testify  to  what  you  witness.  I 
am  a  regularly  commissioned  officer  in  the  Confed- 
erate States  army;  my  command  is  a  regularly 
.enrolled  company  under  the  Partisan  Ranger  Act 
of  the  Confederate  Congress ;  I  make  open  war  on 
the  enemy,  under  the  Confederate  flag ;  and  I  and 
my  men  are  treated,  not  as  optn  enemies,  but  as 
bandits.  You  see  before  you  a  proof  of  this  asser- 
tion. The  three  men  hanging  yonder  were  among 
the  best  and  bravest  of  my  command.  They  went 
out  yesterday, — in  Confederate  uniform,  as  you  see, 
—  to  attack  a  wagon-train  belonging  to  Sheridan's 
army,  were  taken  prisoners,  and  are  hung  here  by 
Captain  RatclifFe,  of  the  Federal  cavalry,  as  guer- 
illas. I  have  captured  to-night  a  dozen  men  from 
Ratcliffe's  command :  they  stand  before  you.  What 
is  necessary  to  protect  my  men  hereafter  from  being 
thus  murdered  in  cold  blood?  " 

There  was  but  one  reply  to  make. 

"  The  death  of  three  of  these  prisoners,"  I  said. 

"  You  are  right,  colonel,    I  am  glad  we  agree." 

And,  tearing  a  leaf  from  his  despatch-book,  Lan- 
don  wrote  upon  it  some  lines ;  the  bright  moonlight 
enabled  him  to  do  so  without  difficulty.  He  then 
turned  to  Arden. 

"Lieutenant,"  he  said  "you  will  see  to  the  ex- 
ecution of  the  following  orders.    These  prisoner* 


Ah  ^.*E  I  OR  AN  EYE. 


will  proceed  to  draw  lots ;  three  will  thus  be  desig- 
nated, and  these  three  will  be  allowed  fifteen 
minutes  to  perform  their  devotions,  after  which  they 
will  be  shot  to  death.  You  will  then  take  down  the 
bodies  hanging  yonder,  remove  them  to  Millwood, 
where  they  will  be  placed  in  coffins,  to  await  my 
return  to-morrow,  and  the  bodies  of  the  three  pris- 
oners will  be  hung  in  the  places  which  my  men  now 
occupy.  Lastly,  you  will  affix  to  the  trunk  of  the 
tree  beneath  them  the  paper  which  I  hold  in  my 
hand.    It  contains  the  words  •  — 

•* 1  These  three  men  of  Captain  Katcliffe's  command  are 
executed  by  my  order,  in  retaliation  for  three  of  my  own 
men,  murdered  in  cold  blood  by  himself. 

"  *  St.  Leger  Landon, 

Captain  C.S.A.'" 

Arden  saluted  and  received  the  paper  from  the 
hand  of  Landon. 

"  For  the  performance  of  this  duty,"  continued 
the  Partisan,  "you  will  detail  six  men,  and  will  see 
in  person  that  my  orders  are  executed.  When  per- 
formed, report  to  me  at  the  Bethel  Cross  Roads, 
where  I  will  bivouac.'7 

There  was  something  terribly  weird  in  these  busi- 
ness-like and  commonplace  details  of  a  bloody  trag- 
edy.   Landon  gave  his  orders  with  the  air  of  a  man 


AN  EYE  FOB  AN  EYE. 


39 


who  is  merely  following  a  routine  as  humdrum  as 
guard-mounting,  or  calling  the  roll. 

His  voice  was  unmoved ;  his  countenance  perfect- 
ly indifferent.  Having  finished,  he  turned  his  horse's 
head  toward  the  river,  and  we  rode  off  together,  fol- 
lowed by  the  whole  command,  with  the  exception  of 
the  six  men  who  remained  with  Arden. 

I  was  only  too  glad  to  leave  the  spot.  The  ter- 
rible scene  about  to  be  enacted  had  no  attractions  in 
my  eyes,  —  thoroughly  as  I  approved  it,  —  and  I 
turned  my  back  upon  the  gloomy  locality  with  a 
long  breath  of  relief. 

Landon  exhibited  no  emotion  of  any  description. 
His  impassive  countenance  revealed  nothing.  Riding 
in  silence  past  the  mill,  where  he  paused  a  few  mo- 
ments to  look  after  the  wounded  carried  thither,  and 
to  give  orders  for  their  transfer  in  safety  beyond  the 
Ridge,  he  turned  into  the  road  by  which  Blount 
had  come  to  his  assistance,  and,  going  half  a  mile, 
halted  in  a  little  wood  near  a  cross  roads. 

Suddenly,  as  the  column  halted,  three  shots  re- 
sounded from  the  direction  of  Millwood.  I  could 
not  suppress  a  shudder  at  that  ,  sound,  which  indi- 
cated that  three  human  beings  had  passed  from  time 
to  eternity. 

I  looked  at  Landon.  His  countenance  was  entire- 
ly unmoved. 


40 


AN  EYE  FOU  AN  EYE. 


"  Put  out  videttes,"  he  said,  in  a  calm  voice,  fes 
a  sergeant,  "  and  tell  the  men  to  unsaddle." 

Half  an  hour  afterwards  I  had  wrapped  my  cape 
around  me.  and  fallen  asleep,  worn  out  with  fatigue, 
beneath  a  tree. 

Such  were  the  events  of  my  first  night  on  tht 
Shenandoah.* 

•TMsiaaident  is  real. 


vra. 


THE  NIGHT  MARCH. 

The  beams  of  the  September  sun,  darting  from  the 
flimmit  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  and  turning  the  dewy 
leaves  to  molten  gold,  awoke  me. 

Landon  was  already  up,  and  the  men  were  busy 
aroand  their  bivouac  fires,  preparing  breakfast.  It 
was  a  plain  but  excellent  meal,  and  having  finished  I 
'ose  to  depart. 

"  Then  you  will  not  stay  and  attend  the  burial  of 
jay  poor  fellows  to-night,  colonel?  n 

"  The  burial  to-night,  captain  ?  " 

"  Yes,  1  regard  it  as  a  duty  I  owe  them.  They 
were  brave  and  faithful  soldiers,  and  deserve  some- 
thing more  than  to  be  thrown  into  the  first  ditch  by 
the  roadside.  God  willing,  no  man  of  my  command 
shall  be  thus  treated ;  and  I  intend  to  bury  these 
three  in  the  Old  Chapel  graveyard,  about  three  miles 
from  Millwood,  on  the  road  to  Berry ville.  I  should 
like  to  do  so  by  daylight ;  but  a  strong  force  is 
camped  near  the  Chapel,  and  it  is  impossible." 

"  You  will  go  to-night  ?  " 

61 


42 


THE  NIGHT  MAR  VH. 


*'  To-night,  and  as  quietly  as  possible.    Will  you 

accompany  ua  ?  " 

The  expedition  strangely  attracted  me.  That 
love  of  adventure  which  all  men  possess,  surrounded 
this  nocturnal  march  in  the  performance  of  a  pious 
duty,  with  an  irresistible  charm. 

"I  will  go  with  you,  captain,"  I  said,  "but  will 
first  make  a  visit  to  a  friend  near  White  Post.  Will 
I  find  you  here  at  sunset?  " 

"Then,  or  soon  afterwards.  I  am  going  on  & 
reconnoissance  toward  the  Chapel,  and  will  have  re- 
turned by  that  time." 

{<  Good !  I  will  be  punctual."  And,  exchanging 
a  pressure  of  the  hand  with  my  host,  I  set  off  to  make 
my  visit. 

That  visit  has  no  connection  with  the  present  his- 
tory, and  I  shall  not  dwell  upon  it.  Punctually  at 
sunset  I  was  again  in  sight  of  the  cross  roads,  and 
found  the  command,  with  the  exception  of  Landon 
and  one  or  two  of  the  men,  at  the  same  spot  in  the 
woods  which  they  had  occupied  on  the  preceding 
night. 

The  scene  was  picturesque.  The  red  light  of 
sunset  fell  upon  a  little  glade  in  the  forest,  and, 
grouped  beneath  a  tall  oak,  with  their  horses  ready 
saddled,  and  picketed  to  the  boughs  around,  the 
Rangers  had  surrendered  themselves  to  tne  social  de* 
lights  of  the  bivouac. 


THE  NIGHT  uIABCII. 


43 


At  the  moment,  the  attention  of  all  was  centred 
upon  Lieutenant  Arden,  who,  seated  upon  a  root  of 
the  oak,  with  his  back  against  the  trunk,  was  plac- 
ing upon  a  banjo,  and  singing. 

I  had  heard  the  music  commence  just  as  I  turned 
a  corner  of  the  road,  and  the  words  came  clearly  to 
me  on  the  calm  evening  air.  Determined  not  to  in  ■ 
terrupt  the  singer,  I  checked  my  horse,  remained  mo- 
tionless, and  listened. 

I  should  have  expected  some  rude  camp  ballad  h 
this  bivouac  of  the  Bangers  —  or,  if  Arden  sang 
some  stirring  war  lyric,  full  of  the  clash  of  the  sabre, 
the  bang  of  carbines,  and  the  ring  of  the  bugle 
What  I  heard  was  very  different :  and,  strangest  of 
all,  was  listened  to  by  the  Rangers  with  obvious 
sympathy  and  admiration.  The  song  which  the 
young  sabreur  sang  —  this  youth  who  had  proved 
himself  a  veritable  firebrand  on  the  preceding  even- 
ing, cutting  more  than  one  man  out  of  the  saddle  — 
was  the  following :  — 

"abden's  song. 

"  On  the  Shenandoah  the  rose  is  in  bloom, 

And  the  oriole  sings  in  the  sycamore-tree  ; 
And  Annie  —  I  ask  myself  all  the  day  long  — » 
If  A  nnie  is  thinking  of  me  ! 

M  Alone  in  my  tent  on  the  Rapidan, 

I  fancy  the  wind  in  the  dreamy  pines 
Is  the  sigh  of  the  mountain  evergreens 
By  t»e  fo*-d  in  the  Yankee  lines  ! 


44 


TEE  NIGHT  MABCH. 


'*  Bloom  on,  sweet  roses  of  other  years  ! 
Sing,  oriole  gay,  in  the  sycamore-tree  ! 
Past  the  Rapidan  and  the  Blue  Ridge  wave 
Is  the  face  that  I  long  to  see  ! 

u  Ring  out,  silver  bugle,  the  signal  of  strife  ! 

Spur,  sabre,  and  stirrup,  clank  merry  and  free  ! 
To  horse  !    I  am  coming  !  — and  then  I  shall  know 
If  Annie  is  dreaming  of  me  ! " 

As  the  sweet  and  tender  accents  of  the  yourhfu) 
?oiee  died  away,  I  cried  "  Bravo  !  "  and  the  Rangers 
started  up.  I  approached,  and  received  a  cordial 
greeting ;  after  which  Lieutenant  Arden  made  room 
for  me  on  the  root  beside  him,  and  I  requested  him 
to  go  on. 

"  I  was  only  singing  the  boys  a  little  song  of 
mine,"  he  said,  with  a  blush  and  a  laugh;  "they 
pretend  that  they  like  it,  but  their  real  favorites  are 
1  Johnny,  fill  up  the  Bowl,'  and  4  Jine  the 
Cavalry.'  " 

With  these  words,  Arden  handed  the  banjo  to  one 
of  the  men,  who  sang  in  succession  that  lively  ditty, 
commencing :  — 

"  We  were  ordered  to  charge  and  not  to  stop, 
And  we  oharged  right  into  a  whiskey  shop ! 

We'll  all  drink  stone  Hind, 
Johnny,  fill  up  the  bowl ! * 


And  then  the  famous  song,  so  loved  by  Stuart :  — 


THE  NIGHT  MARCH. 


45 


M  If  you  want  to  have  a  good  time, 
Jino  the  cavalry  ! 

Bully  boys,  hey  !  " 

Have  you  ever  heard  those  wonderful  lyrics,  my 
dear  reader  ?  If  not,  I  should  like  to  quote  them, 
which  I  assure  you  I  could  do  without  missing  a 
single  word.  I  should  like  especially  to  record  the 
latter,  that  great  comic  Iliad  of  the  sabreurs  of 
Stuart ;  to  lay  before  you  in  full,  the  most  popular 
of  all  the  cavalry  ballads  of  the  war.  But,  alas  I  to 
give  the  mere  words  would  be  to  offer  you  a  withered 
flower,  from  which  the  colour  and  perfume  had  fled. 
It  would  be  nothing  —  this  famous  ditty  —  without 
the  tune,  without  the  banjo,  without  the  foliage  above, 
and  the  fires  of  the  bivouac  glimmering  near. 

The  performer  executed  it  admirably,  and  the  Ran- 
gers joined  rapturously  in  the  chorus.  The  woods 
rang;  the  very  horses  turned  their  heads,  and  the 
men  starting  to  their  feet,  began  to  dance  to  the  up- 
roarious strumming,  above  which  rose  the  gay  caval- 
ry chorus.  Altogether  the  scene  was  indescribable 
for  its  grotesque  merriment ;  the  Rangers  had  sur- 
rendered themselves  to  a  mirth  which  passed  all 
bounds. 

It  was  in  the  very  midst  of  the  revelry  that  the 
sound  of  horses'  hoofs  was  heard,  and  Landon  ap- 
peared at  the  turn  of  the  road,  accompanied  by 
Touch-and-go.    As  Arden  saw  him,  he  extended  his 


46 


THE  NIGHT  MABCH. 


band  toward  the  performer  on  the  banjo,  buckled  on 
his  sabre,  and  gave  the  order :  — 
"  Prepare  to  mount !  " 

At  that  command  the  merriment  ceased  as  if  by 
magic.  The.  men  ran  to  their  horses,  and,  at  a  second 
order  from  Arden,  mounted  and  formed  column. 
The  young  man  then  rode  up  to  Landon,  made  the 
military  salute,  and  said  :  — 

"  Ready,  captain  !  " 

Landon  saluted  in  return,  pressed  my  hand 
cordially,  and,  running  his  keen  eye  along  the 
column,  placed  himself  at  the  head,  and  gave  suc- 
cessively the  orders : — 

"Unfurl  the  flag!"  and  "Forward!" 

The  red  flag  was  unfurled,  the  column  moved,  and, 
at  a  steady  pace,  went  back  over  the  road  by  which 
we  had  reached  the  bivouac  on  the  preceding  even- 
ing. 

Ere  long  the  houses  of  Millwood  appeared,  em- 
bowered in  trees,  and,  in  the  waste  ground  in  front, 
rose  the  great  oak. 

As  we  passed,  I  turned  my  head,  and  looked  at  it. 
From  the  boughs,  in  place  of  the  dead  Confederates, 
hung  the  three  Federal  cavalrymen  executed  on  the 
preceding  evening.  Against  the  trunk  of  the  tree 
something  glimmered  in  the  moonlight.  Et  was  the 
paper  stating  the  grounds  upon  which  the  death 
penalty  had  been  inflicted. 


THE  NIGHT  MARCH. 


47 


Habituated  as  I  had  long  been  to  the  liorrcurs  of 
war,  the  three  ghastly  figures  were  appalling.  There 
w?s  something  gloomy  and  lugubrious  in  their  out- 
lines, as  they  dangled  from  the  great  oak,  illumined 
by  the  ^oon ;  the  spectacle  was  tragic  and  terrible. 

As  Landon  rode  by,  I  saw  him  look  at  them,  and 
tried  to  discover  in  his  countenance  some  traces  of 
emotion.  There  were  none  whatever.  He  gazed  at 
the  ghastly  figures  with  an  expression  of  entire  in- 
difference, and  his  face  had  the  cold,  hard  look  which 
characterized  it  invariably  when  in  repose.  Was 
there  any  feeling  under  that  mask  ?  I  know  not. 
Men's  faces  are  bad  indices.  Suffering  hardens,  and 
stamps  a  gloomy  impress  on  the  very  muscles  at 
length  ;  and  under  that  frozen  surface  thoughts  come 
and  go  as  the  tide  does  beneath  the  ice,  without  mov- 
ing the  hard  crust. 

Landon  rode  on  without  uttering  a  word,  and  pass- 
ing through  the  little  stream,  over  which  some  tall 
trees  leaned,  we  entered  the  village  of  Millwood, 
which  the  superb  moonlight  bathed  in  its  mellow 
splendour. 

The  bodies  of  the  three  Confederates  awaited  us  in 
rude  pine  coffins,  deposited  in  a  light  wagon  ready  to 
move.  On  the  coffins  some  young  ladies  had  placed 
wreaths  and  garlands  of  autumn  flowers ;  and,  as  wa 
appeared,  more  than  one  fair  figure,  glimmering  in 
the  moonlight,  raised  a  white  handkerchief  to  hor 


48 


THE  NIGHT  MARCH 


eyes ;  more  than  one  sob  was  uttered  by  those  stand« 
ing  beside  the  coffins. 

Landon  saluted,  but  did  not  open  his  lips.  At  a 
sign  from  him,  ths  men  ranged  themselves  in  front ; 
the  wagon  moved  ;  and  the  funeral  cortege,  with  the 
red  flag  borne  in  front,  ascended  the  hill,  proceeding 
slowly  in  the  direction  of  the  Old  Chapel. 

I  shall  never  forget  that  strange  night  march. 
The  little  band  of  Rangers,  going  to  bury  their  dead 
comrades  by  moonlight,  presented  a  solemn  and  mov- 
ing spectacle,  and  the  landscape  was  in  unison  with 
the  occasion.  The  chill  wind  of  the  September  night 
sighed  through  the  great  oaks,  and  the  moon  shone 
with  a  dreamy  and  memorial  splendour,  lighting  up 
the  highway,  the  trees,  the  modest  little  church  on 
its  grassy  slope,  and  the  hamlet  nestling  down  behind 
us,  amid  the  autumn  foliage.  The  band  moved  slow- 
ly on;  scarce  a  hoof-stroke  was  heard;  and  the 
men  resembled  rather  so  many  silent  phantoms  than 
human  beings.  It  was,  in  truth,  a  strange  scene, 
and  a  stranger  errand.  We  were  going  thus,  under 
cover  of  darkness,  to  give  our  poor,  dead  comrades 
Christian  burial  in  holy  ground,  because  we  could 
not  do  so  by  day,  for  fear  of  interruption.  Even 
now,  amid  the  shadows  of  night,  it  was  possible  that 
some  eye  would  spy  us ;  some  enemy  interrupt  us  — 
wad  then  we  must  fight.    A  fight  over  graves !  Tho 


THE  NIGHT  MARCH. 


49 


living  must  fall,  that  the  dead  might  be  b  iried  !  — 
the  dead  burying  the  dead  ! 

We  entered  a  forest,  emerged  into  the  open 
country  beyond,  and,  ascending  a  lofty  hill,  were 
within  a  mile  of  the  chapel. 

"I  think  we  will  have  to  fight,  colonel,"  said  Lan- 
dcn,  by  whose  side  I  was  riding.  "  There  is  a  heavy 
force  of  cavalry  just  this  side  of  Berry ville,  and 
a  picket  at  the  Chapel.  I  reconnoitred  this  morning 
in  person." 

"  In  that  case  you  will  attack  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  am  determined  to  bury  my  poor  fellows 
yonder  in  spite  of  them." 

As  Landon  spoke,  a  shot  was  heard  in  front,  and 
then  another  quickly  following  the  first. 

* £  That  is  bad, ' 7  said  the  Partisan.  1 1  Touch-and-go 
must  have  run  into  them  unawares." 

"  You  sent  him  on  ahead  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  discover  if  any  change  had  taken  place 
id  the  position  of  the  picket." 

And,  turning  round,  Landon  said  in  his  clear,  low 
voice :  — 

"  Halt  the  column." 

At  the  word  it  halted,  the  men  remaining  mo- 
tionless on  the  slope. 

All  at  once  muffled  hoof-strokes  were  heard  ap- 
proaching across  the  wide  field  on  our  left.  Then  a 
figure  appeared  advancing  on  a  fleet  horse  in  the  dim 

4 


50 


THE  NIGHT  MARCH. 


light.  It  was  Touch-and-go,  and  in  an  instant  he 
vas  heside  Landon. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  the  latter,  briefly. 

"  No  change  in  the  picket,  captain,"  was  the  low 
reply  of  the  scout ;  "  it  is  still  on  the  hill  above  the 
Chapel." 

"  You  ran  into  the  outer  picket?  '* 

"Against  one  of  the  videttes,  captain.  He  was 
completely  hidden  in  the  sycamores  near  the  Chapel 
fence,  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  main  body,  and 
before  I  knew  it  he  fired  on  me." 

"  Unlucky." 

"  Sorry,  captain,  but  really  I  could  not  help  it. 
Who  would  have  expected  to  find  a  vidette  hidden 
there?" 

And  an  expression  of  quiet  contempt  came  to 
Touch-and-go's  face. 

"  He  fired,  and  turned  to  run  back ;  but  I  put  a 
bullet  through  him,  and  he  threw  up  his  arms. 
I  then  jumped  the  fence,  and  came  back  to  report." 

Landon  reflected  an  instant. 

"  You  turned  to  the  left?  " 

"Yes,  captain." 

"  Good !  that  will  do.  I  will  attack  in  front,  and 
from  the  right  yonder.    Lieutenant  Arden  !  " 

The  young  lieutenant  rode  up  and  saluted. 

"I  am  going  to  attack  the  picket,  lieutenant. 
You  will  take  twelve  men  and  gain  that  wocd.  yon- 


the  mom  MARCH. 


51 


der  on  our  right,  so  as  to  be  able  to  strike  the  enemy 
in  flank  and  rear.  I  will  go  on,  on  this  road.  The 
signal  of  your  attack  will  be  firing  in  front.  Move 
quickly,  but  quietly.  I  shall  break  them  by  a 
charge  with  the  sabre,  and  expect  to  meet  you  on  the 
hill,  lieutenant,  when  we  will  drive  them." 

"  All  right,  captain ;  it  shall  be  done." 

And,  with  an  animated  face,  the  young  officer  re« 
turned  to  his  men,  took  twelve,  and  moved  off  rap- 
idly, but  silently,  over  the  field  on  the  right. 

Landon  then  rode  forward,  inviting  me  to  follow 
hira. 

"  Arden  will  require  a  little  time,"  he  said; 
"and  we  will  take  a  look  at  the  ground,  colonel. 
It  is  picturesque." 

We  had  left  the  highway,  on  both  sides  of  which 
the  fences  were  torn  down,  and  the  turf  over  which 
we  advanced  gave  back  no  echo.  Five  minutes'  ride 
brought  us  to  the  summit  of  a  hill,  and  from  this 
hill  we  had  a  view  of  the  Old  Chapel,  irhich  lay 
immediately  in  front  of  us. 

It  was  an  ancient  edifice  of  plain  gray  stone  nes- 
tling in  a  sort  of  amphitheatre  of  hills,  dotted  with 
country  seats.  Near  it  ran  a  little  stream  skirted 
with  sycamores,  which  extended  also  upon  each  side 
of  the  highway,  forming  a  vault  of  foliage  above. 
Beyond  the  sycamores  some  weeping  willows  waved 
their  tassels  in  the  wind,  and  beneath  these  glim- 


52 


THF  NIGHT  MARCH. 


mered  in  the  moonlight  the  white  tombstones  of  the 
tranquil  country  graveyard. 

It  seemed  like  a  blot  upon  the  lovely  landscape,  — ■ 
that  dusky  mass  of  horsemen  on  the  hill  beyond. 
Upon  this  commanding  point  the  officer  of  the  picket 
had  taken  up  his  position,  to  observe  the  main  high- 
way over  which  we  were  advancing,  and  a  second 
road,  which,  forking  at  the  Chapel,  ran  across  our 
left,  in  the  direction  of  White  Post. 

Landon  gazed  in  silence  for  some  moments  toward 
the  picket. 

"  The  very  worst  place  I  know  for  an  attack,"  he 
said;  "  but  I  count  on  Arden,  —  and  my  first  charge 
will  drive  them.  Come,  colonel,"  he  added,  turn- 
ing his  horse  rapidly,  "  I  never  see  such  game  as  is 
yonder  before  us,  on  the  hill,  without  feeling  like 
giving  the  view-halloo  !  " 

"You  are  far  from  complimentary,  captain,"  I 
said  laughing;  "you  compare  our  friends  to  foxes." 

"You  are  right,  colonel,"  said  Landon;  "they  are 
wolves." 


IX. 


THE  OLD  CHAPEL. 

In  a  few  minutes  we  had  rejoined  the  hand.  Al 
a  sign  from  Landon  the  men  moved  obliquely  into 
the  grassy  field  where  the  turf  muffled  the  hoof- 
strokes  and  sound  of  wheels. 

"No  noise,"  said  Landon,  in  a  low  tone;  "wait 
for  the  word." 

And,  placing  himself  in  front,  he  drew  his  sabre} 
and  advanced  rapidly  toward  the  Chapel. 

Suddenly,  as  they  approached  the  sycamore  screen 
near  the  low  fence,  a  blue  horseman,  evidently  an 
officer,  galloped  out,  and  cried :  — 

"What  command  is  that ?  " 

"I  will  show  you,  '  returned  Landon. 

And,  with  a  whirl  of  the  sabre,  he  shouted :  — 

"Charge!" 

At  the  word  the  men  uttered  a  yell,  dug  the 
spur  into  their  horses,  and,  passing  like  a  tornado 
beneath  the  vault  of  foliage,  rushed  up  the  hill, 
firing  a  volley  as  they  did  so  into  the  picket.  They 
then  closed  in  with  the  sabre,  and  an  obstinate  com- 
bat, hand  to  hand,  followed.    It  was  a  weird  afrair 

53 


54 


THE  OLD  CIIAPEL. 


The  moonlight  lit  up  every  figure,  and  the  very  ex- 
pression? of  the  combatants'  faces  were  clearly  visible 
as  they  fought  hilt  to  hilt. 

Landon  nad  only  half  surprised  them,  and  nothing 
but  his  desperate  lighting  made  the  result  doubtful. 
The  enemy  were  closing  around  him  ;  his  horse,  shot 
through  the  head,  was  staggering,  and  on  the  point 
of  hurling  his  rider  beneath  the  trampling  hoofs, 
when  suddenly  a  volley  resounded  from  the  enemy's 
rear,  and  Arden,  at  the  head  of  his  horsemen,  darted 
upon  them  with  the  drawn  sabre. 

The  result  was  such  as  almost  invariably  follows  a 
surprise.  The  Federal  cavalry  gave  back,  scat- 
tered in  every  direction,  and  retreated,  pursued  by 
the  Partisans,  at  whose  head  was  Landon,  mounted 
on  a  captured  horse,  and  cutting  down  everything  in 
his  path. 

The  pursuit  continued  for  half  a  mile,  when  a 
shrill  whistle  resounded,  and  the  men  quickly  drew 
rein.  That  whistle  was  Landon' s  signal,  as  it  was 
Colonel  Mosby's,  to  "  rally  on  the  Chief,*'  as  is  the 
cavalry  phrase. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  larger  portion  of  the  band 
had  assembled  on  the  hill  near  the  Chapel,  and  every 
man  was  accompanied  by  horses  and  prisoners. 

Landon  called  to  Arden,  and  the  young  mac 
hastened  up. 

"  Send  the  prisoners  and  horses  to  the  rear,  with- 


THE  OLD  CHAPEL. 


55 


out  deky,  lieutenant,  and  detail  a  party  :o  dig  thi 
graves  !  "  he  said. 

Arden  saluted,  and  rapidly  issued  the  necessary 
orders,  after  which  he  galloped  back. 

"  Deploy  the  men  as  skirmishers,  and  take  charge 
of  the  left,  Arden,"  the  Partisan  said  :  "  I  will  stay 
on  the  right.  We  are  going  to  be  attacked,  as  the 
alarm  is  given  by  this  time  at  the  camp  of  the 
brigade.  Be  steady,  Arden;  hold  your  ground 
I  am  not  going  away  from  here  until  my  men  are 
buried !  " 

"You  can  count  on  me,  captain!  "  exclaimed  tho 
youth. 

"I  know  it." 

And  Landon  drew  up  his  men  on  the  hill,  the 
delighted  Arden  hastening  off  to  take  command  of 
those  on  the  left. 

What  followed,  exhibited  the  discernment  of  the 
Partisan.  In  twenty  minutes  a  dark  mass  appeared 
coming  from  the  direction  of  Berry ville,  and  all 
along  the  line  of  sharpshooters  resounded  the  crack 
of  carbines. 

From  the  summit  of  tfie  hill  I  then  witnessed  a 
curious — what  the  novelists  would  call  a  "dra- 
matic"—  spectacle.  In  the  graveyard,  near  the 
great  weeping  willows,  I  could  perceive  the  dusky 
figures  of  the  men  digging  the  graves  of  their  dead 
comrades,  while  from  the  field  in  front  came  the 


THE  OLD  CHAPEL. 


incessant  report  of  fire-arms.  The  enemy  were  feel- 
ing their  way,  not  knowing  the  force  opposed  to 
them,  and  evidently  fearing  an  ambuscade.  Their 
advance  was  thus  slow,  and  the  steady  fire  kept  up 
along  his  whole  front  by  Landon,  evidently  puzzled 
them  Nearly  an  hour  thus  passed.  Finally  a  man 
rode  up  from  the  graveyard,  and  reported  that  the 
graves  were  finished. 

' '  Good  ! ' '  exclaimed  Landon ;  and  galloping  tc 
the  spot  where  Arden  was  fighting,  he  said:  — 

"Keep  up  a  steady  fire,  lieutenant,  and  if  you 
are  forced  back,  retire  slowly.  I  will  be  back  in 
fifteen  minutes." 

And,  requesting  me  to  follow,  he  turned  his  horse 
and  went  at  a  gallop  back  to  the  graveyard,  the  low 
wall  of  which  his  horse  cleared  at  a  bound.  The 
graves  were  dug ;  the  three  coffins  lay  beside  them. 
It  was  a  singular  interment  I  was  about  to  witness 
on  this  moonlight  night,  with  that  incessant  report 
of  carbines  resounding  beyond  the  crest;  those 
bullets  rattling  against  the  gray  old  church,  or  hiss- 
ing angrily  through  the  pendant  tassels  of  the  weep- 
ing willows. 

Landon  threw  himself  from  his  horse  and  looked 
at  the  graves.    They  were  wide  and  deep. 
"  Good  !  "  he  said :  "  are  the  ropes  ready  ?  " 
"  All  ready,  captain,"  replied  one  of  the  men. 
"  Lower  the  coffins  ! 77 


THE  OLD  CHAPEL. 


57 


The  ropes  were  rapidly  inserted  beneath  thein,  and 
the  three  coffins  deposited  in  the  graves. 

Landon  had  folded  his  arms,  and  an  expression  of 
profound  sadness  veiled  the  clear  light  of  his  dark 
eyes.    Turning  to  me,  he  sai<l :  - — 

"This  is  hard,  colonel.  Those  people  yonder 
grudge  us  even  the  few  feet  of  earth  we  occupy  in 
death ;  and  we  are  obliged  to  bury  our  brave  com- 
rades thus  at  night,  and  by  stealth.  But  I  do  my 
best,  —  the  soldier's  salute  will  be  fired  over  their 
graves.  God  will  pardon  us,  I  hope,  for  having  no 
funeral  service  read,  seeing  that  we  are  fighting 
yonder  to  keep  off  the  enemy." 

"  I  will  read  the  s&**rice,"  said  a  low  voice  behind 

as, 


WBY  I  DID  NOT  RETURN  WITH  LAND  ON. 

I  turned  quickly. 

Within  three  paces  stood  a  young  lady  of  slender 
a*»i  graceful  figure,  exquisitely  fair  complexion, 
large,  brilliant  eyes,  and  dark  auburn  hair,  a  few 
stray  ringlets  of  which  escaped  from  one  of  those 
small,  ruund  hats  worn  in  1864. 

The  figure  drooped;  the  eyes  were  swimming 
in  tears ,  but  there  was  something  calm  and  proud 
in  the  countenance,  which  indicated  an  entire  ab- 
sence of  anything  like  fear. 

For  an  instant  every  one  gazed  at  her  in  silence 
How  could  she  have  retell  3d  that  spot  without  our 
knowledge?  A  glance  indicated  all.  Upon  a  fiat 
tombstone,  half  hidden  behind  the  trunk  of  the  wil- 
low, lay  a  veil.  It  was  endent  that  the  young  lady 
had  witnessed  all  from  tiiax  spot,  the  drooping  leaves 
of  the  weeping  willow  concealing  her. 

"  I  will  read  the  buriai  service,"  she  said,  in  a 
low  voice,  and  advancing  toward  the  graves.  "I 
have  my  prayer-book,  and  am  not  afraid. " 

There  was  something  proud  and  tranquil  in  those 


WHY  I  DID  NOT  RETURN  WITH  LAND  ON  59 


low  tones ;  and  the  voice,  like  the  face,  made  a  pro 
found  impression  upon  me. 

I  looked  at  Landon.  He  had  tecome  extremely 
pale,  but  exhibited,  otherwise,  no  emotion, 

Making  the  young  lady  a  profound  bow,  he  said, 
with  frigid  courtesy :  — 

"  I  thank  you,  Miss  Adair ;  this  is  an  unexpected 
meeting." 

"Yes,  sir,  my  appearance  no  doubt  astonished 
you,"  came  in  the  same  calm  tone,  though  the 
bullets  were  whistling  above;  ""and  yet  it  is  easily 
explained.  You  are  aware  that  I  live  near,  and  this 
evening  I  walked  down  by  *&wonlight  to  visit  the 
Chapel.  When  the  fight  tooV  place  I  stayed,  and 
when  the  men  begun  to  dig  the  graves  for  these  pooi 
soldiers,  I  thought  I  might  be  allowed  to  read  the 
service  over  them.  Was  I  wrong,  sir?  'Tis  little  for 
a  woman  to  do  for  her  defenders." 

Landon  listened  to  these  words  in  the  profoundest 
silence ;  but  it  was  easy  to  see  from  his  compressed 
lips  that  he  was  the  prey  of  bitter  emotion. 

"  Thanks,  madam,"  he  said,  when  she  had 
finished,  and  saluting  as  coldly  as  before.  "I 
accept  your  offer." 

For  an  instant  she  did  not  move,  and  her  eyes 
were  riveted  to  his  countenance. 

"  Captain  Landon,"  she  said,  at  length,  "  I  wish 
to  sneak  to  you  for  a  moment." 


60  WET  I  DID  NOT  BETT7BN  WITH  LAND  ON. 


And  she  walked  away  from  the  group,  Landon 
following.  When  they  had  gone  a  few  paces,  1 
heard  her  say  to  him,  in  a  low  voice :  — 

"  Yon  look  at  me  very  coldly :  why  do  you  do  so  ? 
We  cannot  be  friends,  but  we  need  not  be  enemies, 
I  have  no  bitterness  in  my  heart.  I  have  forgotten 
the  past.  At  the  graves  of  these  poor  dead,  I  par- 
don alL" 

"Ah!  Miss  Adair  has  forgotten;  she  pardons!" 

The  low  words  were  accompanied  by  a  harsh 
laugh,  full  of  bitter  irony. 

"  From  my  heart,"  was  the  sad  reply. 

Landon  rose  to  his  full  stature,  and,  in  a  voice 
full  of  coldness,  almost  of  sarcasm,  said :  — 

"Miss  Adair  is  too  good." 

The  young  lady's  head  rose  suddenly  erect  at 
these  words,  and  I  read  in  her  face,  covered  now 
with  a  deep  flush,  an  expression  of  hauteur  which 
surpassed  that  of  her  companion. 

"  Enough,  sir !  "  she  said;  "I  will  not  further 
annoy  you." 

And,  turning  from  him,  she  was  about  to  leave  the 
spot.  All  at  once,  however,  her  eyes  fell  upon  the 
coffins  —  the  graves.  That  spectacle  seemed  to  melt 
all  her  pride,  and  drive  away  every  trace  of  anger. 
She  stopped —  gazed  at  the  coffins  — then  her  head 
sank,  and  I  heard  a  low  sob  issue  from  her  lips. 

"  Why  do  you  speak  to  me  so?  "  she  murmured. 


WHY  1  DID  NOT  BE  TUB y  TftlTH  LAIS  DON,  61 


hurriedly,  taming  to  Landon.  <;Is  it  kind?  Is  it 
courteous  ?  Should  not  I  speak  thus  to  you,  rather  ? 
I  knew  a  St.  Leger  Landon,  once,  who  — alas !  war 
has  changed  you,  sir." 

And  she  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hand. 

Before  Landon  could  reply,  a  cheer  rang  beyond 
the  crest.  A  shower  of  bullets  whistled  above  us 
The  enemy  were  evidently  advancing. 

"Miss  Adair  will  pardon  me,"  said  the  Partisan, 
coldly,  "but  I  must  bury  my  comrades;  all  is 
ready." 

She  replied  by  a  calm  inclination,  raised  a  hand- 
kerchief to  her  eyes,  and  in  a  moment  they  had  re- 
turned to  the  graves. 

Then  I  witnessed  a  strange  and  moving  spectacle, 
which  I  shall  never  forget,  — a  young  girl  was  reading 
by  moonlight  the  burial  service  over  the  dead.  The 
pen  is  powerless  to  depict  the  pathetic  scene,  and  I 
should  like  to  be  a  painter  to  place  those  figures 
upon  canvas, —  the  rudely  clad  Partisans,  bareheaded, 
and  leaning  upon  their  carbines;  Landon,  with 
folded  arms,  and  chin  resting  on  his  breast ;  at  the 
head  of  the  graves,  the  delicate  girl  with  the  ringlets 
falling  upon  her  shoulders,  the  pure  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  book  from  which  she  was  reading,  the  lips  unagi- 
tated  by  the  least  tremour  as  she  slowly  uttered  the 
sublime  words  of  that  unapproachable  burial  service 
of  the  Episcopal  Church.    Imagine  thes^  figures 


82  WHY  I  DIB  NOT  BETUBN  WITH  LAN  DON. 

grouped  in  the  moonlight,  with  the  weeping  willow 
for  a  background,  by  those  "unknown  graves,"  aa 
they  are  called  to-day,  add  the  hiss  of  bullets,  the 
shouts  from  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  you  will  have 
formed  some  idea  of  the  scene  on  that  Septembei 
night. 

The  young  lady's  voice  did  not  tremble ;  her  bear- 
ing never  lost  its  sweet  composure.  At  last  the 
burial  service  terminated,  and  the  musical  accents 
died  away.  Then  the  earth  rattled  on  the  coffins, 
quick  hands  filled  the  graves,  and  the  three  mounds 
rounded  beneath  the  spade. 

Scarcely  had  the  work  been  completed,  when  a 
mounted  man  came  at  full  gallop  down  the  hill,  and 
hastened  to  the  side  of  Landon. 

"  Well !  "  said  the  latter,  in  his  brief  tones. 

"  The  enemy  are  driving  us,  captain.  Lieutenant 
Arden  told  me  to  say  that  they  are  two  or  three  reg- 
iments at  least,  and  he  won't  be  able  to  hold  his 
ground  more  than  ten  minutes !  " 

"  Good  !  say  I  am  coming !  "  And  Landon  leaped 
on  his  horse.  All  at  once  his  eye  fell  upon  the 
young  lady,  and  he  paused.  Than  he  said,  qui- 
etly :  — 

"  Colonel  Surry,  will  you  oblige  me  by  conducting 
Miss  Adair  beyond  reach  of  danger  ?  That  is  her 
father's  house  on  the  hill;  "  he  pointed  as  he  spoke 
to  a  mansion  within  view;  "and  she  ought  not  to 


WET  I  DID  NOT  BETUBN  WITH  LAND  ON.  63 


remain  here,  as  we  will  be  fighting  at  this  spot  in 
five  minutes. " 

"lam  not  afraid,' '  said  the  young  lady  in  a  per- 
fectly composed  voice. 

"I  beg  Miss  Adair  will  accede  to  my  request," 
said  Landon,  coolly ;  "  and  that  you,  colonel,  will 
oblige  me.  You  can  rejoin  me  at  Millwood.  I  do 
not  mean  to  make  any  stand  here.  My  object  as 
accomplished,  and  I  am  going  to  fall  back,  whether 
driven  or  not." 

With  these  words  Landon  bowed  to  the  young 
lady,  and,  clearing  the  fence,  galloped  up  the  hill. 

Suddenly  Arden  met  him,  falling  back  rapidly. 
The  crest  of  the  hill  swarmed  with  blue  cavalry, 
firing  quick  volleys,  and  uttering  loud  cheers  as  the 
rangers  doggedly  gave  ground.  There  was  nothing 
for  me  to  do  but  to  conduct  the  young  lady  from  the 
dangerous  spot,  or  simply  join  in  the  retreat,  and  1 
chose  the  forner.  Throwing  my  cape  over  my  horse, 
behind  the  saddle,  I  mounted,  assisted  her  to  her 
seat,  and  we  galloped  off  in  the  midst  of  a  shower 
of  bullets,  hissing  like  winged  serpents  around  us.* 

"Are  you  afraid?  "  I  said. 

"Not  at  all,  sir." 

And  the  speaker  plainly  was  not. 

We  leaped  a  low  fence,  passed  across  a  field,  and 
ascended  at  full  gallop  a  slope  beyond. 

•  A  fact 


64   WHY  I  DID  NOT  RETURN  WITH  LAND  ON. 


From  this  elevated  position  I  saw  all.  Landon  s 
men  were  giving  back  step  by  step  before  enormous 
odds.  The  ground  around  the  Old  Chapel  was  full  of 
clashing  sabres,  trampling  hoofs,  and  quick  shots 
flashing  like  fireflies  against  the  dark  foliage  of  the 
willows. 

Then  suddenly,  as  it  were  by  enchantment,  the 
swords  ceased  to  clash,  the  hoofs  to  trample,  and  the 
shots  to  resound.  All  I  heard  was  an  occasional 
shout,  and  the  stifled  hum  of  a  large  force  of  Fed- 
eral cavalry,  drawn  up  in  a  long,  dark  column  on 
the  slope  of  the  hill  beyond  the  Chapel. 

Landon  and  his  Night-Hawke  had  vanished  like 
phantoms  in  the  darkness. 


XL 


HOW  I  MISSED  MY  fi  UPPER. 

My  situation  was  now  peculiar. 

The  hour  of  the  night  was  advanced ;  I  was  in  a 
country  nearly  unknown  to  me,  and  swarming  with 
the  blue  people ;  Landon  and  his  Rangers  had  disap- 
peared, and,  to  complicate  the  whole  affair,  I  had 
under  my  charge  a  young  lady,  for  whose  safety  I 
felt  responsible. 

It  is  possible  that  some  readers  $f  these  pages  will 
suppose  that  the  tableau  here  presented  of  the  cava- 
lier, with  his  fair  burden  en  cr&upe,  is  the  result  of 
imagination.  I  assure  them  that  such  is  not  the 
fact.  The  late  war  was  a  veritable  repetition  of  the 
scenes  of  romance,  and  I  assure  the  reader  that  I 
actually  thus  heroically  "carried  off"  a  very  beau- 
tiful girl,  with  the  bullets  whistling  around  us ;  that 
her  hand  actually  rested  upon  my  shoulder ;  that  hef 
ringlets,  when  I  turned  my  head,  nearly  brushed  my 
cheek ;  and  that,  when  I  asked  if  she  was  afraid, 
she  replied  with  extreme  calmness  in  the  manner 
above  related. 

To  continue  my  narrative,  Miss  Adair  scarcely 
5  65 


66  HOW  I  MISSED  MY  SUPJ>EB. 


spoke  during  the  whole  ride,  which  was  ranil.  how- 
ever, and  soon  came  to  an  end. 

She  seemed  to  labour  under  some  painful  emotion  ; 
and  I  knew  afterwards  that  this  resulted  from  her 
brief  interview  with  Landon.  We  went  on  thus  in 
profound  silence  almost,  and  soon  approached  the 
large  mansion  indicated  by  Landon. 

It  raised  its  walls  amid  deep  foliage  on  a  loftj  hill, 
and  it  was  plain  that  the  house  and  grounds  had 
once  been  models  of  elegance.  Now  all  was  changed. 
The  fences  had  been  torn  down ;  the  boughs  of  the 
ornamental  trees  were  broken  and  champed  by  cav- 
alry horses,  which  had  also  trampled  the  fine  turf, 
and  the  house  looked  baie  and  melancholy.  It 
was  a  specimen  of  the  houses  and  grounds  of  the 
entire  Shenandoah  Valley.  Generals  Hunter  and 
Sheridan  had  not  been  able  to  conquer.  —  they  had 
destroyed.  What  one  left,  the  other  took.  When 
they  retired,  this  Arcadia  was  a  desert;  the  beautiful 
valley  a  Vale  of  J  ehoshaphat. 

Miss  Adair  dismounted  and  begged  me  to  enter. 
I  hesitated,  but,  after  reflecting  an  instant,  accepted 
the  invitation ;  impelled,  I  am  afraid,  by  two  ignoble 
sentiments,  —  curiosity  and  —  hunger  ! 

I  am  trying  to  paint  trily  the  "men  and  man- 
ners "  of  the  late  war,  my  dear  reader ;  and  march- 
ing and  fighting  made  us  terribly  hungry ! 

It  was  plain  that  the  good  house  had  not  lost  the 


HOW  I  MISSED  MY  SUPPEB. 


67 


•H  traditions  of  hospitality.  A  servant  boy ,  -  -  one 
of  the  few  left,  I  fancy,  — ran  and  took  my  horse  to  the 
stable ;  and  then  Miss  Adair  ushered  me  into  a  krge 
drawing-room,  illumined  only  by  the  moon. 

As  I  entered,  I  heard  a  voice  from  the  apartment 
opposite  call  out :  — 

"Is  that  you,  my  child?" 

"Yes,  father,"  was  the  reply. 

And  the  young  lady  hastened  thither,  having  first 
placed  a  lighted  lamp  upon  the  centre-table  of  the 
drawing-room. 

The  apartment  had  been  elegant,  but  now  looked 
"torn  down."  At  one  end  was  a  bow-window,  the 
recess  half  concealed  by  falling  curtains. 

I  was  gazing  around  me  still,  when  the  young 
lady  came  back  and  said :  — 

"Papa  will  be  glad  to  see  you,  Colonel  Surry. 
He  is  an  invalid  and  cannot  come  out.  Will  you  gc 
in  and  see  him?  " 

I  bowed,  and,  following  Miss  Adair,  entered  the 
chamber  where  a  gentleman  of  about  sixty,  with 
long  gray  hair,  sparkling  eyes,  and  a  thin  face, 
"thorough-bred,"  and  full  of  character,  lay  upon  a 
sofa. 

He  received  me  with  old  school  courtesy,  and  Miss 
Adair  having  hastened  out  to  prepare  supper,  I  con- 
versed for  ten  minutes  with  my  host,  J udge  Adair, 
of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Virginia. 


68 


HOW  I  MISSED  MY  SUPPEB. 


If  the  readers  of  this  page  have  seen  my  Memoirs t 
they  will  remember,  perchance,  the  brief  sketch 
therein  of  Colonel  Beverley  of  "  The  Oaks,"— that 
ardent  follower  of  Calhoun,  and  veritable  firebrand 
of  revolution.  Well,  my  dear  reader,  Judge  Adair 
rather  surpassed  the  colonel.  Need  I  say  more  ?  I 
had  heard  bitter  denunciation  of  the  North,  listened 
to  ferocious  diatribes  upon  the  doings  of  the  blue 
people,  but  they  were  all  milk  and  water,  sugar  and 
honey,  compared  with  the  observations  of  Judge 
Adair  on  that  night  of  1864  ! 

For  the  rest  I  was  not  astonished.  Will  any  one 
be  ?  He  lived  in  th  at  region  which  a  hostile  fate 
seemed  to  have  surrendered  to  the  furios.  Outrage, 
insult,  and  plunder  had  driven  him  tc  a  species  of 
scornful  frenzy. 

Never  shall  I  forget  that  spectacle. Prostrated 
by  sickness,  unable  almost  to  raise  his  head,  the  old 
lion  glared  with  his  fiery  eye ;  lamenting  most,  it 
seemed,  the  weakness  which  kept  his  hand  from  the 
sword. 

I  will  not  repeat  our  conversation.  My  narrative 
deals  with  events.  In  the  midst  of  it,  Miss  Adair 
came  m  and  informed  me  that  supper  was  ready,  and 
I  arose  and  followed  her  into  the  drawing-room, 
where  an  excellent  repast  awaited  me. 

I  had  scarce  approached  the  table,  however,  whei 
my  fair  young  hostess  laid  her  hand  upon  my  arm. 


HOW  T  MISSED  MY  SJPrEB. 


69 


I  looked  at  her.  Her  head  was  turned  over  her 
shoulder,  and  she  was  listening  attentively. 

Suddenly  the  origin  of  this  movement  was  made 
plain  to  me.  The  quick  tramp  of  hoofs  was  distin- 
guishable on  the  turf  without ;  the  ring  of  a  sabre, 
as  a  cavalier  dismounted;  and  rapid  steps  were  heard 
ascending  the  steps  which  lod  to  the  front  door  of  the 
mansion. 

"Good  heavens!"  exclaimed  Miss  Adair,  "they 
are  Yankees,  and  you  will  be  captured  !  Come  with 
me,  Colonel  Surry !  " —  and  she  almost  dragged  me 
toward  the  recess,  concealed  by  the  curtains, — 
"  there  is  no  time  to,  —  here  they  are  !  " 

I  ignobly  retreated  behind  the  curtain,  ard  at  the 
game  moment  a  man  entered  the  apsrtment 


xn. 


CAPTAIN  RATCLIFFE. 

In  the  new-comer  I  recognized  the  officer  "wnom 
Landon  had  attacked  and  deb  ated  near  Millwood  — 
Captain  Ratcliffe,  U.S.A. 

He  was  about  twenty-six,  tall,  imposing,  and 
exceedingly  handsome.  A  magnificent  beard  and 
moustache  covered  half  of  his  face ;  his  eyes 
were  large  and  brilliant :  and  his  splendid  blue  uni- 
form set  off  the  powerful  figure  to  very  great  advan- 
tage. Captain  Ratcliffe  was  evidently  proud  of  his 
person,  and,  if  he  had  left  his  sword  and  pistols 
behind,  might  have  passed  for  a  military  beau  on 
a  visit. 

But  he  came  fully  ait^ed,  and  the  sound  of 
voices  and  horses'  hoofs  on  the  lawn  without  indi- 
cated that  he  had  not  come  alone. 

From  my  hiding-place  J  witnessed  what  followed. 

The  young  lady  remained  quiet  and  did  not 
respond  to  the  bow  of  tbe  officer. 

"Good-evening,  Miss  Adair,"  he  said;  "my 
risit  does  not  seem  to  be  agreeable  to  you.;; 

The  young  lady  did  not  reply. 


CAPTAIN  BA1  i  fisIFFE. 


71 


"  You  doubtless  regard  me  hs  an  intr  iler  ?  n 
No  response. 

"  Ah  !  my  uniform  is  hatetul  to  you ;  or  is  it 
madam,  that  enjoy  that  privilege?  " 

A  growl  accompanied  the  words.  Captain  Lat- 
cliffe  was  evidently  losing  his  temper  rapidly. 

"  Speak,  I  beg,  madam  ! ';  -ie  exclaimed,  "  unless 
you  are  dumb,  or  you  think  me  unworthy  of  your 
ladyship's  notice  !  " 

Miss  Adair's  eye  flashed  at  ^he  scornful  tone  of 
the  speaker. 

"  I  do  not  reply  to  you,'  she  said.  "  because  this 
visit  is  an  intrusion,  sir !  If  I  was  not  alone  and 
helpless  here,  you  would  not  come  and  force  youi 
presence  upon  me!  " 

Ratcliffe  flashed  a  dark  look  at  her.  Then,  with 
a  sarcastic  laugh,  he  said :  — 

"  I  have  only  dropped  in  to  enjoy  the  smiles  of 
Venus  after  the  frowns  of  Mars,  madam.  We  have 
had  a  little,  affair  to-night  down  yonder  at  the  Chapel, 
—  and  by  the  by,  we  defeated  and  put  to  flight 
your  dear  friend  Landon,  of  the  Night-Hawks.  He 
had  the  imprudence  to  attack  us  with  about  two 
hundred  men;  we  had  only  about  a  hundred; 
and  in  half  an  hour  we  had  the  valiant  jay  hawker 
running." 

"I  was  near,"  said  Miss  Adair,  w;th  extreme 
scorn  in  her  voice,  "and  saw  all." 


72 


CAPTAIN  BA TCLJFFE. 


*'  You  f  "  exclaimed  the  Federal  captain. 

"  Yes.  at  the  Chapel,  sir,  and  I  witnessed  the  whole 
engagement  which  you  speak  of.  Captain  Landon 
had  about  twenty-five  men;  your  picket  alone  was 
double  that  number;  he  drove  your  picket,  defeated 
you,  and  did  not  retire  until  you  brought  up  a  regi- 
ment or  a  brigade  !  " 

The  calm  voice,  full  of  pride  and  defiance,  made 
Ratcliffe  flush  with  rage. ' 

"  Then  we  are  babies  !  cowards  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
"and  your  friend  is  a  hero !  " 

In  the  intonation  of  these  words,  I  recognized  a 
hatred  toward  Landon  as  profound  as  his  own  for 
Ratcliffe. 

"I  am  a  coward!  afraid  of  him!  Come,  ac- 
knowledge, madam,  that  you  regard  me  as  a  pol- 
troon !  " 

She  glanced  through  the  window. 
"  Do  you  always  go  guarded  in  visiting  ladies, 
sir?"  she  said,  quietly. 
Ratcliffe  started  with  rage. 

"  Curse  the  guard  !  "  he  exclaimed,  rudely.  "I 
can  take  care  of  myself." 

The  young  lady's  lip  moved  slightly. 

"And  yet  you  Federal  gentlemen  always  come 
attended  thus,  sir." 

Ratcliffe  scowled  at  the  speaker,  and  said :  — 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  afraid  ?  " 


CAPTAIN  BATCLIFFE. 


73 


"You  are  the  best  judge  of  that,  sir,"  was  the 
young  lady's  reply. 

Ratcliffe  uttered  a  species  of  growl,  and,  turning 
abruptly,  called:  — 

"Orderly!" 

A  boy  of  eighteen  appeared  at  the  door  and 
saluted.  He  was  elegantly  clad,  and  his  counte- 
nance was  one  of  extraordinary  beauty. 

"  Order  the  men  to  retire  to  camp !  "  exclaimed 
Ratcliffe. 

The  boy  saluted,  but  stood  still,  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  Miss  Adair.  A  strange  expression  had  come 
to  them ;  they  seemed  to  blaze. 

"  What  are  you  staying  for?  "  growled  the  officer. 

"  Shall  I  go  too? "  said  the  boy  in  a  voice  full  of 
music. 

"  You?  —  certainly  !  " 

"  I  thought  as  I  was  your  orderly,  Captain  — " 
He  paused;  they  exchanged  a  glance;  and  Rat- 
cliffe said :  — 

"Well,  remain;  but  send  the  company  back  to 
camp." 

The  boy  disappeared,  and  in  five  minutes  I  heard 
the  tramp  of  hoofs,  which  gradually  receded  and 
died  away. 

Then  the  young  orderly  again  made  his  appear- 
ance, and  said  in  the  same  musical  voice  :  — 
"  The  men  are  gone,  captain." 


74 


CAPTAIN  BATCLIFFE. 


As  he  spoke,  I  observed  again  the  strange  expres* 
eion  of  his  eyes,  as  he  gazed  at  Miss  Adair. 

"  Good  !  "  "sail  Ratcliffe  ;  "  wait  outside." 

And  he  made  an  imperious  gesture.  In  spite  of 
it  the  boy  lingered,  and  it  was  only  when  Ratcliffe 
directed  toward  him  a  look  full  of  menace  that  he 
sullenly  obeyed. 

The  officer  turned  to  Miss  Adair. 

"I  am  alone  now,  madam,"  he  said,  frowning. 

"  With  a  young  girl  only,"  she  replied. 

"  A  young  girl  and  a  gentleman  !  " 

I  laid  my  hand  upon  my  pistol. 

"  Your  beloved  Landon,"  Ratcliffe  sneered,  "and 
his  jay  hawkers  —  the  cowardly  scoundrels  !  —  may 
be  away ;  but  where  is  your  father?  " 
.  "  Here  !  "  a  voice  said. 

And,  limping  forward  on  his  crutch,  the  old  cava- 
lier, with  fiery  eyes,  and  gray  hair  streaming  over 
his  shoulders,  entered  the  apartment. 

He  advanced  straight  toward  Ratcliffe,  who 
gazed  at  him  sullenly. 

"  Call  St.  Leger  Landon  a  coward  in  my  presence 
again  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman,  "and  I  will 
cram  the  words  down  your  dastardly  throat !  " 

Ratcliffe  recoiled,  and  made  a  movement  to  draw 
his  pistol. 

Before  he  could  grasp  it,  I  reached  his  side  at  one 


CAPTAxN  BATCLIFFE. 


75 


oound,  placed  my  own  weapon  close  to  his  breast, 
and  ordered :  — 

"  Surrender,  or  you  are  dead  !  " 

Never  shall  I  forget  the  expression  of  his  counte- 
nance, the  sudden  pallor,  the  profound  surprise,  and 
his  unnerved  look,  as  he  staggered  back. 

"  Unbuckle  your  belt/'  I  said. 

He  ground  his  teeth  and  obeyed. 

"  Throw  your  arms  on  that  floor." 

Without  a  word  he  threw  down  sabre  and  pistol, 
and  they  fell  with  a  clatter  upon  the  carpet  at  his 
feet. 

Suddenly,  as  the  sound  echoed  through  the  house, 
the  young  orderly  appeared  at  the  door. 

"  Surrender  !  "  I  said,  pointing  my  pistol  at  hia 
head. 

His  reply  was  a  military  one.  He  drew  his  pis- 
tol and  fired  at  me.  I  returned  the  shot  with  i-;qual 
non-success ;  and,  seeing  that  he  had  missed  me,  the 
orderly  disappeared  at  one  bound,  leaped  on  his 
horse,  and  vanished  in  the  darkness. 

There  was  now  but  one  course  left  me,  —  to  get 
away  before  the  arrival  of  the  men  to  whom  the 
orderly  would  give  the  alarm.  I  intended,  for  the 
rest,  to  have  Captain  Ratcliffe  for  a  travelling  com- 
panion, and  I  found  little  difficulty  in  persuading 
him  of  the  prudence  of  obeying. 

My  horse  was  quickly  brought.    I  directed  Rat- 


T8 


CATPAIN  RA T(JLIFFE. 


cliffe  to  mount;  and,  saluting  Judge  Adair  and  his 
daughter,  set  out  rapidly  on  the  White  Post  road. 

I  held  Ratcliffe's  bridle  in  my  left  hand  ;  with  the 
right  I  directed  a  pistol  at  his  breast. 

He  made  no  sort  of  resistance,  amS  wc  went  on  at 
full  speed  through  tb«  moonlight 


XIH. 


A  MOONLIGHT  R.TDE/ 

It  was  a  singular  ride. 

For  half  a  mile  not  a  word  was  exchanged ;  the 
soft  road  deadened  the  sound  of  the  horses'  hoofs ; 
animals  and  riders  might  have  been  taken,  in  the 
weird  moonlight,  for  phantoms. 

T  continued  to  direct  my  pistol  at  Ratcliffe's 
breast,  and  to  hold  the  bridle  of  his  horse 

Going  on  thus  rapidly,  we  crossed  a  little  stream 
and  entered  a  forest,  through  which  the  moonlight 
scarcely  penetrated  sufficiently  to  indicate  the  road. 

All  at  once  ;t  occurred  to  me  that  we  migln  run 
into  a  Federal  picket,  and  I  said  :  — 

'*  Is  there  a  picket  near  here,  Captain  RatclifFe? 91 

He  made  no  reply. 

"  I  ask  you  if  there  is  a  picket  in  these  woods  ?  " 

He  preserved  the  same  sullen  silence,  and  I  began 
to  lose  my  temper. 

Leaning  over,  and  placing  the  muzzle  of  my  pistol 
close  to  his  head,  I  said  :  — 

"  You  will  reply  to  my  question  !  " 

6/  There  is  no  picket  anywhere  here,"  he  growled 

n 


78 


A  MOONLIGHT  hlDJE. 


"  Good  !  "  I  said.  "  It  seems  to  me  you  might 
have  given  a  civil  answer  to  a  civil  question  at  first, 
sir." 

All  at  once  I  saw  him  turn  lis  head  and  listen : 
I  imitated  the  worthy,  and  heard  distinctly  the  sound 
of  hoofs  coming  on  behind  us,  —  the  horses  evidently 
at  a  headlong  gallop. 

I  could  see  Ratcliffe's  face  flush  in  the  moonlight, 
and  an  instant  afterward  he  attempted  a  ruse  to 
escape. 

We  were  passing  at  full  speed  over  the  narrow 
woodland  road,  and  had  much  difficulty  in  avoiding 
the  trees.  As  we  approached  one  nearly  in  the 
middle  of  the  road,  I  felt  Ratcliffe  gradually  oblique 
his  horse  to  the  left,  and  all  at  once  the  aim  of  this 
manoeuvre  became  apparent.  If  he  could  pass  just 
to  the  left  of  the  tree,  while  I  passed  to  the  right,  I 
would  necessarily  be  compelled  to  release  my  hold 
upon  his  bridle,  and  then,  by  suddenly  wheeling  his 
horse,  he  might  escape. 

Unfortunately  for  him,  I  divined  his  intention. 
I  allowed  him  to  oblique  more  and  more  to  the  left, 
—  the  tree  was  now  within  a  few  feet  of  us,  and  the 
animals  were  about  to  pass  to  the  right  and  left  of 
it, — when  I  suddenly  drew  Ratcliffe's  bridle  violently 
toward  me,  and  passed  with  him  close  to  the  tree 
and  on  the  right  of  it. 

The  consequence  was  that  his  knee  struck  the 


A  MOONLIGHT  BIDE. 


79 


trunk,  his  boot  was  nearly  torn  from  his  leg,  and  he 
uttered  a  deep  groan. 

"  Another  attempt  of  that  sort  and  you  are  dead ! 

I  said. 

1 1  You  would  fire  on  an  unarmed  prisoner,  then  ? ' 
lie  muttered. 

' '  Attempting  escape  ?  yes.  Try  it,  try  it,  my 
tear  Captain  Ratcliffe !  Your  friends  yonder  are 
gaining  on  us." 

He  turned  his  head  and  the  flush  of  hope  deep- 
ened. That  made  the  blood  mount  to  my  own 
brain. 

"  They  are  coming  !  they  may  recapture  you.  I 
would  much  rather  have  them  recapture  your  dead 
body." 

But  bad  fortune  was  in  store  for  me.  As  I  spoke, 
my  horse  ran  in  the  darkness  against  a  sharp  granite 
ledge  cropping  out  from  the  bank,  staggered,  and, 
going  ten  paces,  reeled  and  fell  with  me. 

As  he  did  so,  I  heard  a  loud  cheer  behind,  and 
the  pursuing  party  came  on  like  a  thunder-gust. 

I  rose  quickly  from  my  struggling  horse.  I  had 
aever  released  my  clutch  on  Ratcliffe's  bridle. 

u  Dismount !  "  I  shouted,  putting  my  pistol  to  nis 
breast,  "or  —  " 

Fe  did  not  let  me  finish.  In  half  a  second  he 
had  thrown  himself  from  the  saddle,  and  I  vaulted 
into  \m  place  just  as  the  pursaers  rushed  on,  shout- 


80 


A  MOONLBJET  SIDE, 


ing  and  firing.  I  did  not  tarry.  Burying  the  spur 
in  Ratcliffe's  horse,  which  was  an  excellent  animal, 
I  went  on  at  full  speed ;  heard  the  men  behind  me 
draw  rein  a  few  moments,  and  shout  to  Ratcliffe ; 
then  they  came  on  again  upon  my  track. 

But  the  delay  had  saved  me.  Arrested  by  the 
fallen  horse  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  the  party  had 
stopped  for  two  or  three  minutes :  those  minutes  I 
had  utilized  to  their  utmost.  I  now  turned  into  a 
woodland  path  on  the  right,  which  I  followed  at  the 
utmost  speed  of  my  horse,  and  then  I  had  the  great 
satisfaction  of  hearing  the  Federal  cavalry  rush  bj 
on  the  road  which  I  had  left* 

Their  prey  had  escaped. 


XIV. 


arden's  secket. 

Such  had  been  the  result  of  my  ride  with  Landon 
to  the  Old  Chapel.  I  had  witnessed  an  animated 
skirmish :  been  present  at  a  night  burial  of  the 
dead ;  made  the  acquaintance  under  peculiar  circum- 
stances of  a  very  charming  young  lady ;  captured  a 
Federal  officer ;  narrowly  escaped  capture  myself ; 
and  was  lost  in  the  woods. 

That  was  enough  of  adventure  for  one  night,  — 
was  it  not,  reader  ?  I  thought  so :  and  all  I  now 
asked  of  the  kind  fates  was  a  monotonous  and 
humdrum  termination  of  this  "  secies  of  events,"  — 
permission  simply  to  lie  down  with  my  blanket 
around  me,  and  sleep  tranquilly,  with  "  none  to 
make  me  afraid." 

Man  proposes  only.  This  nigH  was  not  to  pass 
away  without  something  more  to  remember. 

I  was  now  in  the  midst  of  the  woods,  not  far  from 
the  Federal  lines,  and  the  bridle  path  which  I  fol- 
lowed might  lead  me  straight  into  a  "  Yankee 
picket."  I  went  on,  however,  keeping  a  good  look- 
out ;  and  at  last  reached  a  road  which  I  at  once 
6  81 


82  AJRDEN'8  SECRET. 

recognized  as  the  Old  County  Road,  from  Millwood 
to  Winchester. 

I  had  scarcely  debouched  from  the  forest3  when  a 
horseman,  lost  in  the  shadow  of  a  great  oak,  called 
out  suddenly  :  — - 

"  Halt » " 

The  click  of  a  pistol  followed. 

"  Who  goes  there?    said  the  voice. 

"  Your  comrade,  lieutenant,"  I  replied,  for  I  had 
recognized  the  voice  of  Arden.  And  I  rode  to  meet 
him. 

"Colonel  Surry  ?" 

"In  person,  my  dear  Arden." 

And  I  gave  him  an  account  of  my  adventures. 
The  youth  laughed  heartily,  congratulated  me  on 
my  escape,  and  then  said :  — 

"Well,  Landon  is  beyond  Millwood  in  bivouac, 
and  I  am  going  on  a  little  scout.' ' 

I  thought  I  saw  the  youth  blush  in  the  moonlight 
as  he  spoke. 

"  Ah !  a  scout,"  I  said,  laughing,  as  we  rode  on 
toward  Winchester. 

"  To  see  a  friend  —  " 

And  Arden  certainly  blushed  this  time. 

"Good!  "  I  cried.  "I  think  I  know  the  name 
of  your  friend,  my  dear  Arden." 

"  Impossible !  " 

"Her  name  is  Miss  Annie." 


AB  DEN'S  SEC11ET. 


"  What  an  idea,  colonel !  " 

But  the  laugh  of  boyish  pleasure  re  veiled  all. 

"  My  guess  is  a  natural  one." 

"  Natural?" 

"  '  And  Annie  —  I  ask  myself  all  the  day  long, 
If  Annie  is  thinking  of  me, ' " 

was  my  reply,  with  a  smile. 

Arden  blushed  and  again  laughed. 

"Don't  think  I  make  fun  of  you,"  I  said;  "by 
no  means,  my  dear  Arden.  It  is  good  to  love,  and, 
although  our  acquaintance  is  short,  I  take  a  very 
sincere  interest  in  you.  I  have  seen  you  fighting, 
and  in  bivouac  too,  and  I  would  like  to  call  you 
friend,  if  you  will  let  me." 

The  words  evidently  won  his  heart. 

"Iam  proud  to  think  you  wish  to,"  he  said,  with 
boyish  candor  and  earnestness;  "and  now  I  will 
not  conceal  anything  from  you,  colonel.  You 
laugh ;  but  you  do  not  seem  to  laugh  at  people." 

Acknowledge,  reader,  that  the  compliment  was 
charming. 

"Then  it  is  really  Miss  Annie  you  are  going  to 
Bee?" 

"Yes,  colonel." 

"Your  cousin,  or  playmate  in  childhood,  doubt* 
less?" 

"  Oh  !  no ;  I  am  not  of  this  country." 


84 


AE  BEX'S  SECRET. 


"  You  are  not  a  Virginian?  " 

"lam  a  Yankee."  said  Arden,  smiling,  "  that 
is  to  say,  I  was  born  in  Delaware." 

14  And  came  to  Virginia  to  help  us  ?  " 

"Not  exactly,  colonel.  I  will  tell  you  my  his- 
tory in  a  very  few  words,  if  you  wish  to  hear  it." 

"  I  should  like  much  to."' 

"Well,  to  begin  at  the  beginning.  I  will  not  be 
tedious,  and  this  splendid  moonlight  night  makes 
one  feel  like-  talking.  The  Ardens  have  lived  for 
nearly  two  hundred  years  in  Delaware,  and  my 
father  was  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  one  of  the 
State  officers  of  that  Commonwealth.  "Wealthy  by 
inheritance,  he  became  poor,  like  many  other  gentle- 
men, by  profuse  hospitality :  and  his  two  sons  — 
Ralph  and  myself — saw  that  it  was  our  duty  to 
endeavour  to  become  producers  instead  of  consumers. 
Well,  Ralph,  who  was  impetuous  and  full  of  energy, 
chose  arms  for  his  profession,  and  at  seventeen  se- 
cured a  place  at  West  Point,  leaving  me  at  home. 
I  was  of  exactly  the  same  age,  —  as  Rai£h  and  my- 
self were  twins,  —  and  it  made  me  so  ashamed  to  re- 
main at- home,  that  one  day  I  went  to  my  father,  and 
said,  'I  wish  you  would  let  me  go  into  a  merchant's 
counting-house,  and  earn  my  bread,  sir.'  But  my 
father  shook  his  head.  '  I  intend  you  for  the  law, 
my  son,  and  trade  will  spoil  you,'  he  said.  'Then 
I  must  go  somewhere  and  teach/  I  replied;  1 1  can 


AR DEN'S  SECRET. 


85 


do  so,  and  study  too.'  To  this,  my  father  con 
sented,  and,  seeing  the  advertisement  of  a  gentleman 
in  the  Valley  here,  whom  he  knew,  my  father  wrote 
to  him  and  secured  the  place  of  teacher  in  his  family 
for  me.  A  week  afterwards  I  was  in  Virginia, 
teaching  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot." 

"  The  name  of  one  of  the  '  young  ideas,'  "  I  said, 
laughing,  "being  Miss  Annie." 

Arden  smiled,  and  shook  his  head. 

"  You  are  wrong,  colonel.  Of  course,  however, 
one  thing  brought  on  the  other.  My  visit  to  Vir- 
ginia made  me  acquainted  with —  her." 

Arden  blushed  a  little  as  he  pronounced  the  word 
"her, "  pausing  before  it. 

"  She  lived  only  a  mile  off,"  he  continued,  "at 
an  old  house  called  c  The  Briars,'  whither  we  are 
now  going.  Her  aunt,  with  whom  she  lived,  was 
not  the  owner  of  the  estate.  The  family  to  whom  it 
belonged  had  moved  from  it,  and  Mrs.  Meadows  — 
that  was  her  name  —  was  the  tenant;  a  most  ex- 
cellent lady,  as  you  will  have  an  opportunity  of  see- 
ing, I  hope,  to-night." 

"Well,"  I  said,  with  a  smile,  sesinp  Ardeu 
pause. 

He  looked  at  me,  blushing  a  little,  with  "What 
more?  "  plainly  written  in  his  face. 
I  began  to  laugh. 

"My  dear  Arden,'   I  said,  "this  is  onlj  th*» 


86 


AR DEN'S  SECRET. 


preface.  Tell  me  of  your  little  affair  !  I  am 
anxious,  I  assure  you  ;  for  nothing  could  be  more 
'  dramatic '  in  a  quiet,  pastoral,  idylic  way,  than 
your  history.  Observe  the  'situation/  as  we  say  in 
the  army.  You  are  a  young  gentleman  of  the 
North,  and  ought,  by  rights,  to  be  courting  same 
little  blue  belle  of  New  England,  or  other  portions 
of  that  favoured  land,  and  in  the  blue  army.  In- 
stead of  which,  see  what  the  real  fact  is  !  You  are 
enamoured  of  a  little  lily  of  the  Virginia  Valley, 
and  an  officer  in  the  gray  forces.  Finish,  finish  ! 
my  clear  Arden." 

"I  see  that  nothing  will  satisfy  you,  colonel,"  he 
said,  shyly,  "but  the  whole  explanation." 

"  You  are  right." 

"  Well,  I  soon  became  a  friend  of  the  family  and 
a  regular  visitor ;  and  when  the  war  broke  out  went 
into  the  Confederate  army.  I  beg  you  not  to  think, 
however,  that  I  yielded  to  somebody's  solicitations, 
and  joined  the  South  against  my  principles.  No, 
indeed,  colonel !  You  would  do  me  very  great  in- 
justice in  thinking  so.  My  whole  family  are  anti- 
war democrats,  and  I  was  raised  in  the  strictest 
State-rights  doctrines  from  my  childhood.  '  The 
States  are  sovereign,'  my  father  had  said  to  us  a 
hundred  times ;  and  when  South  Carolina  seceded 
in  the  winter  of  1860,  he  wrote  to  me,  1 1  deplore  it; 
but  peaceable  secession  is  the  corner-stone  of  State 


ABDEN'S  SECRET. 


87 


rights.'  So  you  see,  I  did  not  sell  my  two  id  for  a 
young  lady's  smile  !  I  was  too  proud  to  do  that ; 
I  should  have  thought  it  a  dishonour ;  and  I  would 
not  dishonour  myself,  colonel,  for  any  consideration 
in  this  world  !  I  said  to  myself  —  for  she  did  not 
open  her  lips  to  me  —  I  said  c  This  government  is 
either  an  empire,  and  the  States  are  provinces,  or 
it  is  a  league  of  sovereignties  who  have  parted  with 
a  few  clearly  defined  rights  only,  reserving  the  rest. 
If  it  is  an  empire,  secession  is  rebellion  against 
legally  constituted  authority,  and  calls  for  suppres- 
sion and  punishment;  as  a  rebellion  in  Yorkshire 
would  be  suppressed  and  punished.  If  the  govern- 
ment, on  the  contrary,  is  a  league  of  sovereign  com- 
monwealths, then  secession  is  the  exercise  of  a  right, 
and  to  oppose  it  is  a  lorong ;  to  make  war,  for  that 
reason,  and  force  the  South  back  into  a  hateful 
union,  is  open  tyranny,  —  the  stronger  oppressing 
the  weaker.'  Well,  when  I  reached  that  point,  in 
my  train  of  reasoning,  I  said  to  myself,  '  What  is 
your  duty?  —  to  aid  the  oppressor  or  the  oppressed? 
—to  offer  your  sword  to  the  stronger,  or  the  weaker 
Bide?  '    And  that  question  did  not  long  puzzle  me  " 

I  extended  my  hand  and  grasped  Atden's. 

"  It  was  the  decision  of  a  brave  gentleman,  and  I 
honour  you,"  I  said. 

"Then  you  believe  me?"  said  the  young  man 
laughing  and  sighing. 


88 


ARDEN\S  SECRET. 


;<  Believe  you  !  — " 

"Many  do  not.  They  say,  yonder  in  Delaware. 
I  am  told,  that  a  young  lady  has  '  demoralized '  me ; 
the  war  people  say  it,  not  my  father." 

"  Let  them  say  it." 

Arden's  head  rose  proudly. 

"  You  are  right,  colonel.  There  is  nothing  like 
doing  your  duty.  I  am  trying  to  do  mine,  and  I 
appeal  to  God  for  the  sincerity  of  my  convictions  in 
this  war.  I  did  not  hesitate  a  moment.  At  the 
first  sound  of  the  trumpet  I  entered  the  Confederate 
ranks  as  a  private.  I  was  young,  untrained,  but 
tried  to  do  my  duty.  I  am  not  much,  —  a  mere 
boy ;  but  Captain  Landon  is  my  friend,  and  by  his 
partiality  I  have  become  a  lieutenant,  —  by  that 
only."  " 

"I  do  not  believe  a  word  of  that !  I  have  seen 
you  at  the  broadsword  exercise,"  I  said,  laughing; 
"  and  your  brother  ?  " 

"He  is  in  the  United  States  Army." 

H  You  have  seen  him  ?  " 

"More  than  once,  but- — God  be  thanked!  — 
never  crossed  swords  with  him  yet." 
"  lie  is  in  the  cavalry?  " 

11  Yes,  and  what  is  still  more,  in  Ratcliffe's  com' 
pany  —  a  lieutenant." 

"  That  is  bad,  indeed,"  I  said,  thinking  of  nij 
•wn  brother  Will,  in  the  Northern  arm  v. 


ARPEWS  BE C BET, 


89 


"Very  bad." 

"  You  love  each  other?  " 

"With  all  our  hearts,  colonel.  Oh,  you  should 
know  Ralph,  if  you  admire  real  courage,  and  heart, 
and  honour  !  He  is  the  coolest,  bravest,  noblest  fel- 
low that  ever  lived." 

"  Pitv  he  is  not  with  us." 

Ardcn  shook  his  head. 

"  Ralph  thinks  we  are  a  set  of  outrageous  rebels, 
and  would  rather  die  than  change  his  colours. 
"He  is  right." 

"  Yes ;  but  we  have  made  a  bargain." 
"A  bargain?" 

"  Not  to  kill  each  other  if  possible  !  "  said  Arden, 
laughing. 

And  suddenly  extending  his  hand  toward  a  man- 
sion buried  in  trees,  and  in  sight  of  the  road :  — 

"  That  is  her  house,"  he  said,  blushing  like  a 
boy. 

44  Her  "  house !    That  told  the  whole  story , 


XT. 


ARDEN  "DISM3UNTS"  ME. 

Arden  had  unconsciously  touched  his  horse  with 
tte  spur,  as  he  spoke,  and  we  cantered  over  the 
rough  and  unused  road  toward  the  mansion  which  he 
had  pointed  out. 

"  That  is  '  The  Briars,4  probably,"  I  said. 

"Yes,  colonel,  one  of  many  old  mansions  you 
have  seen  or  passed  to-day,  —  1  Chapeldale,'  i  New- 
market,' 'The  Meadow/  '  Pagebrooke," —  where 
something  of  old  times  still  lingers.  Heaven  be 
thanked  !  and  .rill  linger,  I  trust,  to  the  end  of  the 
chapter;  or,  during  my  time,  at  least!  " 

"  Fie,  Arden  ?  Ycu  are  an  aristocrat,  a  believer 
in  the  past ! ' ' 

"Avery  devout  believer,"  said  the  young  man, 
joyously.  "You  uphold  dass)  —  don't  you,  colo* 
neir? 

"  No,  I'm  a  leveller." 

"  You  ?    Good  heavens  !  :i 

u  You  doubt  my  sincerity?  " 

"  Completely,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  colonel." 

*•  Well,  you  are  wrong,  my  dear  Arden.    I  think 

90 


AJRBEN  "DISMOUNTS"  ME. 


91 


that  whatever  is,  is  best;  and  is  not  everylody  equal 
to  everybody  else?  Consult  the  immortal  Jefferson ! " 

"  I  wish  he  had  never  h*-<ed," 

"Fie!  you  think  with  his  opponent,  Randolph 
of  Roanoke," 

Arden's  face  glowed. 

"  Indeed  I  do,  my  dear  colonel.  If  there  ever 
was  a  wise  statesman  it  was  your  Randolph  of  Ro- 
anoke. People  called  him  erratic,  crack-brained, 
unreliable.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think:  I 
think  he  was  the  profoundest  and  wisest  political 
thinker  this  country  ever  produced." 

I  began  to  laugh. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "let  us  not  further  discuss  these 
high  themes.  I  very  much  fear  that  you  are  still  in 
the  gall  of  bitterness  and  the  bonds  of  iniquity,  my 
young  friend.  My  own  opinion  is,  that  everybody, 
high  and  low,  black  and  white,  good  and  bad,  ed« 
ucated  and  ignorant,  is  equal  to  everybody  else. 
Now,  as  this  is  not  very  interesting,  let  us  come 
back  to  your  little  affair." 

"  There's  no  time,  colonel.  Here  is  'The  Briars.5 
Follow  me  through  this  gate  in  the  stone  fence,  and 
we'll  go  round  to  the  front  of  the  house." 

As  Arden  spoke,  he  leaped  his  horse  through  the 
torn-down  wall ;  I  followed,  and,  skirting  a  piece  of 
water  at  the  lower  end  of  a  grove,  we  entered  a 
meadow,  and  saw  the  house  to  our  right.    It  was  a 


92 


AJRBEN  "DISMOUNTS"  ME. 


stone  building,  stuccoed,  of  considerable  size,  and 
with  a  long  portico  in  front,  overshadowed  by  trees. 
Across  the  rolling  fields  in  front  was  seen  the  long 
wave  of  the  North  Mountain,  like  a  faint  mist  on  the 
horizon.  Toward  the  south  a  body  of  woods  arrested 
the  view. 

"Ah,  here  is  the  picture  that  an  invisible  artist 
used  to  paint  for  you  '  in  your  tent  on  the  Rapidan,' 
Arden  !  "  I  said.  "  Where's  the  1  oriole  that  sang  in 
the  sycamore-tree?  '  I  suspect  the  name  of  the  oriole 
was  Annie,  —  was  it  not?  " 

"  You  are  a  terrible  tease,  colonel,"  said  the  blush- 
ing Arden;  "and  if  you  laugh  at  me  any  more,  I 
will  ask  after  the  health  of  the  '  Rose  of  Fauquier,' 
whose  other  name  i3  Miss  May  Beverley." 

The  shot  dismounted  me.  From  the  aged  philos- 
opher and  satirist,  I  found  myself  reduced  suddenly 
to  the  character  of  a  romantic  lover,  —  no  better 
than  Harry  Arden. 

"Well  aimed,  my  boy,"  I  said;  "and  I'm  si- 
lenced.   Let  us  drop  the  subject  and  get  on." 

"  We  have  arrived,  colonel !  "  And  Arden  threw 
open  the  gate. 

All  at  once,  as  he  did  so,  we  heard  the  trample  of 
hoofs  behind  the  house. 

Then  a  squad  of  gray-clad  horsemen  appeared 
dashing  toward  the  stable  on  the  left  of  the  house, 
shouting  "Halt!  Halt!" 


XVI. 


ONE  !  TWO  !  THREE  !  FOUR  I 

We  entered  the  grounds,  and  spurred  after  the  gray 
figures.  Suddenly  we  found  our  course  arrested  by 
a  high  plank  fence ;  and,  forced  thus  to  check  our 
horses,  witnessed  a  singular  scene,  without  taking 
any  part  in  it. 

The  Confederates  were  pressing  hotly  a  young 
Federal  officer,  whose  blue  uniform  was  perfectly 
plain  in  the  bright  moonlight. 

He  had  issued  from  the  house,  and,  running  to  the 
stable,  called  to  a  terrified  orderly,  who  stood  fum- 
bling at  the  bridle,  to  bring  him  his  horse.  The 
orderly  seemed  wholly  incapable  of  obeying;  and 
uttering  a  loud  shout,  the  Confederates,  entering  by 
an  open  gate,  rode  straight  at  the  officer. 

As  they  did  so,  the  young  man  wheeled  round 
and  confronted  them,  drawing  his  pistol,  and  coolly 
cocking  it,  without  the  least  exhibition  of  alarm. 

There  was  something  superb  in  his  bearing,  and  I 
exclaimed :  — 

"  That  is  a  brave  fellow  !  " 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  I  heard  Arden  say ;  "  it  is  my 
brother  Ralph ! " 

93 


94  ONE!  TWO!  THREE!  FOUR! 


tj  Is  it  possible?  " 

"Yes/3 

The  Confederates  were  now  nearly  upon  him. 

"Halt!" 

:i  Surrender !  " 

And  the  men  drew  their  pistols  as  they  spoke. 

"  Never  with  life  !  "  *  I  heard  the  young  officei 
reply  in  a  clear,  collected  voices. 

And,  raising  his  pistol,  he  took  deliberate  aim ;  the 
discharge  followed,  and  the  foremost  Confederate 
fell  from  his  horse,  shot  through  the  neck  and  mor- 
tally wounded. 

As  the  animal  wheeled  and  ran,  the  young  officer 
coolly  uttered  the  monosyllable :  — 

"One!" 

The  second  confederate  fired  at  him  within  six 
paces,  but  missed.  The  report  of  the  Federal  officer's 
pistol  followed  it  like  an  echo,  and  the  second  Con- 
federate, throwing  up  his  arms,  fell  from  the  saddle 
like  the  first. 

"  Two  !  "  came  in  the  same  deep  tone. 

By  this  time  the  whole  party  had  rushed  into  the 
sjtable-yard.  I  glanced  at  Arden  beside  me.  He 
was  as  pale  as  death. 

"  They  will  butcher  him  !  "  he  muttered. 

"  Wait !  "  I  said ;  "lam  not  so  sure  of  that." 

In  fact,  the  result  seemed  extremely  doubtful 

*  His  words. 


ONE!  TWO!  THE  EE!  FOVfi! 


95 


The  young  Federal  officer  was  plainly  not  at  al] 
"demoralized."  Instead  of  retreating  into  the  sta- 
ble, he  advanced  full  into  the  open  space  lit  by  the 
moon,  and  I  could  see  that  nis  belt  was  full  of  pis- 
tols. 

Then  I  witnessed  a  superb  spectacle.    Not  with- 
out reason  had  Arden  called  his  brother  "cool' 
"brave."    I  had  seen  exhibitions  of  "game'1 
often  during  the  war;  but  a  cooler  man  than  the 
young  Federal  officer,  never. 

He  advanced  straight  upon  his  opponents,  took 
dead  aim,  fired  shot  after  shot,  and  every  shot  ap- 
peared to  wound  or  bring  down  a  man.  In  the 
midst  of  a  shower  of  bullets,  he  seemed  to  possess  a 
charmed  life;  none  struck  him.  And  still  came 
that  deadly  echo  from  his  own  weapon  !  The  words 
"three!  four!"  accompanied  by  the  fall  of  the 
men  at  whom  he  fired,  testified  to  the  fatal  accuracy 
of  his  aim. 

This  lasted  at  least  ten  minutes  ;  at  the  end  of 
that  time  Lieutenant  Arden,  U.  S.  A.,  was  master 
of  the  field. 

I  saw  him  coolly  replace  his  empty  pistol  in  its 
holster,  catch  the  bridle  of  a  horse  belonging  to  cnt 
of  the  Confederates  whom  he  had  shot,  and  then 
turn  to  the  frightened  orderly. 

"  Orderly ! "  he  said,  in  a  perfectly  caln:  voic6. 


96 


ONE!  TWO!  THREE!  FOUR! 


1 1  Lieutenant !  "  came  in  a  trembling  voice  from 
the  stable. 

' 1  What  a  coward  you  are !  "  said  the  other, 
laughing. 

A  sort  of  moan  replied. 

11  Come  out,  you  rascal !  " 

The  trembling  orderly  appeared. 

"  Mount;  lead  my  horse  and  come,  or  rather 
go  on." 

The  victim  of  fright  obeyed,  and  was  soon  gallop- 
ing off. 

"  Now,  for  number  five  !  "  said  the  officer,  smiling 
satirically;  "  they  fire  badly,  these  gentlemen." 

And,  advancing  coolly  toward  his  adversaries, 
who  were  crowded  together  in  a  little  lane,  waiting 
for  him  to  mount,  he  took  deliberate  aim  at  them, 
fired,  and  looked  to  see  if  his  shot  had  struck. 
Then,  as  calmly  as  before,  he  again  took  aim,  and 
again  fired. 

These  two  parting  shots  exhausted,  it  seemed,  his 
loads.  The  young  officer  replaced  his  pistol  in  his 
belt,  threw  himself  on  the  horse  of  the  wounded 
cavalryman,  which  he  had  continued  to  hold  by  the 
bridle,  and,  waving  his  hat  around  his  head,  galloped 
off.* 

In  a  minute  he  had  disappeared,  hotly  pursued  by 


♦Fact. 


ONE!  TWO!  THE  EE/  FOUR! 


9? 


the  eavalrymen,  who,  recoiling  before  his  deadly 
aim  while  on  foot,  waited  for  him  to  mount,  in  order 
to  follow  on  his  track.  They  did  so,  now,  at  full 
speed,  and  I  heard  shots  resound;  then  they  died 
away,  and  all  vanished. 

Arden  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Good  heavens  !  what  a  man  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  What  a  brave  man  !  " 

"My  brother?" 

uYes.  I  could  have  killed  him  by  a  bullet 
through  the  side  or  back.  Do  you  think  I  would 
have  fired  on  him  ?  I  would  rather  have  cut  off  my 
right  hand." 

"Thanks,  colonel,"  said  the  young  man.  And, 
with  a  quick  blush,  he  added :  — 
"  Here  is  Annie  !  " 

In  fact,  a  young  girl  came  out  with  a  light,  and  I 
saw  a  rosy  little  face,  framed  in  curls,  shine  in  the 
circle  of  radiance.  Arden  threw  himself  from  horse- 
back, introduced  his  friend  Colonel  Surry  to  Miss 
Annie  Meadows ;  and  an  old  lady,  with  thin,  gray 
hair  under  a  white  cap,  having  made  her  ^appear- 
ance, the  wounded  cavalrymen  were  borne,  with  the 
assistance  of  a  maid-servant,  into  the  house,  and 
their  wants  cared  for. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards  the  wounded  men  were 
dozing  on  couches  spread  on  the  floor  of  the  apart- 
ment, or  occupied  beds  elsewhere ;  and  Miss  Annie 

7 


98 


ONE!  TWO!  THBEE1  FOUR! 


and  Arden  were  whispering  in  a  corner  by  the  light 

of  a  glimmering  candle. 

It  was  a  charming  picture.  The  young  faces 
glowed,  the  lips  smiled,  and  the  eyes  were  full  of  an 
expression  which  the  present  writer  carefully  guards 
himself  from  "  making  fun  of."  I  knew  afterwards 
that  the  young  lady  was  explaining  the  visit  of  Ar- 
den's  brother,  —  an  explanation  which  the  reader 
will  have  laid  before  him  in  due  season;  and  I 
suppose  the  "young  things"  talked  of  various  other 
subjects. 

I  can  see  them  now,  sitting  in  their  little  nook 
by  the  window,  bending  toward  each  other,  looking 
into  each  other's  eyes,  smiling,  blushing, — and  — 
yes!  as  I  live,  "shaking  hands."  Enough  of  this 
improper  espial.  Whisper,  fond  young  lovers  in  the 
moonlight  night.  Press  hands,  murmur  low,  enjoy 
your  chance  meeting  on  the  border.  Be  absurd,  be 
foolish,  be  as  much  "  in  love  >7  as  you  choose.  Some 
cynics  may  laugh  at  you,  but  among  them  will  not 
be  the  smiling  Colonel  Surry,  wno  listened  for  a 
few  moments  to  the  prattle  of  the  lovers,  and  then 
snored  in  his  rocking-chair. 

At  daylight  I  awoke  and  aroused  i^j-den,  who  was 
sleeping  in  a  chair  beside  me.  Miss  >nnie  had  dis- 
appeared. 

Fifteen  minutes  afterwards  we  were  mounted  and 
Qad  regained  the  main  road.    A  glance  aropnd  told 


0N11!  TWO!  THREE!  FOUfi!  99 


me  that  I  was  near  the  Opequon,  and  consequently  a 
few  miles  only  froir  Winchester,  whither  duty  called 
me. 

"Good-by,"  I  said,  after  having  informed  Arden 
of  the  latter  fact.  "I  will  see  you  soon  again,  I 
hope,  and  make  you  sing  for  me  of  Annie  ! " 

You  laugh,  colonel,  but  it  is  a  good-natured 
laugh.    Isn't  she  worth  it?  " 
Indeed  she  is." 

"  Come  again  and  see  us  soon." 

"  Without  fail !  "  And  we  parted  with  a  close 
grasp  of  the  hand. 

Two  hours  afterwards  I  had  forded  the  Opequon, 
passed  Early's  picket  on  the  crest  of  hills  over- 
looking Winchester,  and  the  paving-stones  of  that 
ancient  border  town  resounded  beneath  my  horse  s 
feet. 

That  horse  was  RatcliftVs  splendid  charger,  from 
which  I  had  made  him  dismount.  It  was  the  sole 
memorial  which  I  retained  of  those  two  nights  of 
adventure  on  the  banks  of  the  Shenandoah. 


XVII 


WINCHESTER. 

I  bonder  if  these  memories  interest  you,  M«jdoR* 
reads  t.  as  much  as  they  interest  the  person  y\  ho  re- 
cords them  ? 

Pursuing  thus  the  path  of  my  recollections  and 
my  dreams;  I  go  back  to  the  past,  which  amuses  me 
much  more  than  the  present,  and  its  figures  live  and 
move  for  me  again  as  they  once  did  in  the  flesh  ! 

1864,  with  all  its  drawbacks,  was  exciting,  at 
least.    1868  is  so  dull !  —  m  it  not,  reader  ? 

I  think  so ;  and  try  to  make  the  shadow  run  back 
on  the  dial.  Instead  of  talking  about  reconstruction 
which  does  not  reconstruct,  and  that  republican  lib- 
erty supported  so  gracefully  on  bayonets,  I  return  to 
1864,  and  tell  my  story  of  the  border. 

Again  the  carbines  ring  and  the  sabres  clash. 
Good  carbines  !  trusty  sabres  !  —  one  hangs  on  my 
wall  yonder,  —  you  are  useless  now,  and  are  rusting 
1  wofully !  but  I  try  to  make  your  echoes  sound 
again  as  in  the  hours  of  old.  The  present  epoch  is  stu- 
pid, —  why  not  try  to  enliven  it  ?  So  I  ponder  here 
at  Eagle's  Nest ;  and,  falling  into  dreams  as  it  were, 

100 


WINCHESTER. 


101 


see  the  past  return.  All  comes  b&c*  to  Jiemory, 
fresh  and  living.  ~  the  days  and  nights  of  adventure, 
the  charging  squadrons,  the  ringing  shouts ;  all  the 
romance  and  incident, — the  mingled  comedy  and 
tragedy  of  "  that  place  and  time."  -  the  border  in 
1864. 

That  word  "romance"  was  injudicious.  I  am 
not  writing  romance.  Do  you  doubt  that  assertion  ? 
Perhaps,  you  say,  for  example,  that  the  incident  just 
related  —  that  courageous  conduct  of  the  young  Fed- 
eral officer  —  is  imaginary.  It  is  true  in  every  de- 
tail ;  and  for  the  accuracy  of  other  incidents  ask  the 
old  followers  of  Mosby,  and  Gilmore,  and  O'Neil.  1 
only  fear  that  rny  picture  is  too  tame. 

My  narrative  lags,  and  yet  I  am  greatly  tempted 
to  tarry  a  little  in  the  good  old  town  of  Winchester, 
to  say  a  few  words  of  the  place  and  some  famous  per- 
sonages whom  I  encountered  there,  in  this  September 
of  1864. 

Perhaps  you  imagine  that  Winchester  is  too  small 
to  deserve  much  attention,  reader.  Never  was 
greater  mistake ;  and  that  philosophy,  too,  is  errour. 
Size  is  not  the  measure  of  importance  in  countries, 
cities,  or  men.  Greece  was  only  a  spot  on  the  map 
of  the  Old  World ;  and  yet  she  fertilized  all  countries 
with  her  ideas.  Macedon  was  small ;  but  her  king 
conquered  Persia,  — the  greatest  empire  of  the  earth. 


£02 


WINCHESTER. 


Prussia  was  small ;  but  she  held  her  own  against 
Europe  in  arms. 

Among  cities  is  Paris  or  Pekin  the  most  notable  > 
One  moves  in  advance  of  the  world ;  the  other  is 
dragged,  a  huge  bulk,  unwieldy  and  shapeless,  as 
limitless,  inert  Asia  is  dragged  by  little  Europe. 

And  as  to  men :  size  is  less  a  measure  of  impor- 
tance there  than  elsewhere.  Napoleon  was  the 
"  Little  Corporal."  Vendome  was  a  microscopic 
hunchback.    Pope  was  a  dwarf. 

Granite  and  marble  are  not  more  valuable  than 
the  ruby  and  the  diamond,  because  the  ruby  and  the 
diamond  are  less  bulky. 

And  Winchester  is  not  insignificant,  because  it  is 
a  place  of  only  five  or  six  thousand  inhabitants. 

All  which  reflections,  my  dear  reader,  have,  it  is 
true,  no  connection  with  our  narrative,  but,  like  the 
few  pages  following,  have  a  distinct  aim  in  view.  I 
have  just  shown  you  a  number  of  scenes  of  a  very 
hurried  and  "dramatic"  description,  and  we  are 
going  to  rest  a  little  now,  and  walk  arm  in  arm 
through  Winchester. 

It  is  a  queer  old  place,  —  is  it  not  ?  These  over- 
turned stones  are  the  ruins  of  Fort  Loudoun,  which 
a  young  man,  called  George  Washington,  just  pro- 
moted to  be  major,  but  now  forgotten,  commanded 
against  the  French  and  Indians  about  one  hundred 
years  ago.    Look  at  the  old.  gray-walled  church  yon* 


WINCHES  TEE. 


der,  surround©  1  by  its  crumbling  tombstones.  Un* 
der  the  shadow  of  its  walls,  lie  General  Daniel 
Morgan,  the  friend  of  Washington  and  victor  of 
Tarleton ;  and  Lord  Fairfax,  former  owner  of  all 
this  portion  of  Virginia- 
Morgan  was  brave  among  the  brave,  but  there  was 
no  pretence  about  him. 

"  Old  Morgan  was  often  miserably  afraid!  "  he 
said. 

And  when  coming  to  die  he  murmured :  — 
"  To  be  only  twenty  again,  I  would  be  willing  to 
by  stripped  naked,  and  hunted  through  the  Blue 
Ridge  with  wild  dogs  !  " 

Near  him  sleeps  Lord  Fairfax,  who  was  the  friend 
and  patron  of  Washington  in  the  latter' s  boyhood. 
Like  Morgan,  he  died  in  Winchester  here,  and  his 
last  hours  were  bitter.  It  was  in  1781.  Yorktown 
had  just  fallen.  Cornwallis  had  surrendered  to 
Washington,  and  the  people  of  Winchester  raised  a 
shout. 

"What  is  that?"  asked  the  gray-haired  noble- 
man. 

They  told  him,  and  he  uttered  a  groan. 

"  Take  me  to  bed,  John,"  he  murmured  to  his  old 
English  body-servant ;  "  it  is  time  for  me  to  die  !  " 

And  soon  afterwards  he  expired.  His  bones  wera 
laid  far  from  "  Old  England,"  the  home  of  his  race, 
in  the  quiet  church-yard  here,  at  Winchester,  whi'tb 


WINCHES  TEE 


he  had  built  up.  All  through  the  Indian  wars  the 
place  had  been  a  sentinel  watching  the  border ;  and 
now  it  still  watches  Lord  Fairfax's  tomb. 

A  single  additional  historic  incident.  At  the  old 
house  yonder,  about  1830,  two  travellers  stopped, 
and,  asking  for  dinner  in  their  private  apartment, 
were  indignantly  refused  that  request  by  the  demo- 
cratic landlord. 

"  If  they  thought  they  were  too  good  to  eat  with 
the  rest,  they  might  leave  the  house.'7 

The  travellers  bowed,  and  ordered  their  carriage, 
which  then  drove  off  elsewhere.  It  contained  Louis 
Philippe  D'  Orleans,  afterwards  King  of  the  French, 
and  his  kinsman,  the  Due  de  Montpensier. 

Odd,  original,  crooked,  suggestive  old  Winchester  ! 
But  how  friendly  and  cordial !  Yonder  are  the 
ruins  of  "  Selma,"  the  former  residence  of  Senator 
Mason:  and,  all  around  you,  are  similar  traces  of 
Federal  displeasure;  but  glimmering  amid  tha 
ruins  are  cheerful  faces  and  bright,  sweet  eyes. 

They  belong  to  the  "  women  of  Winchester,"  and 
that  term  is  going  to  be  as  famous,  one  of  these 
days,  as  "Roman  Mother." 

See  those  slender  figures  yonder,  moving  toward 
the  hospitals  !  They  look  fragile.  These  girls  are 
timid,  you  would  say.  Do  you  think  so  ?  When 
the  enemy  appear  they  wave  Southern  flags.  When 
the  banner  of  the  United  States  is  suspended  over 


WINCHESTER. 


105 


the  pavement  they  walk  around  it.  When  they 
pass  Federal  officers  they  draw  their  skirts  aside,  to 
prevent  them  from  coming  in  contact  with  the  blue 
uniforms.  When  Jackson  drove  Banks  through  the 
town,  in  1862,  details  were  obliged  to  go  in  advance 
to  warn  the  girls  out  of  the  way,  in  order  that  the 
platoons  might  deliver  their  fire.  After  Kernstown 
they  came  out  and  ran  to  greet  and  cheer  the  South- 
ern prisoners ;  and  then,  proceeding  to  the  battle- 
field, sought  out  the  Confederate  corpses  for  burial. 
They  bent  over  them,  sobbing  and  weeping,  so  that 
a  young  Federal  officer's  heart  ached  at  the  sight. 

"  Do  not  cry  so,"  he  said  to  a  young  lady  who 
seemed  heart-broken. 

The  bowed  head  rose  erect  with  intense  hauteur, 
and  the  wet  eyes  blazed. 

"What  right  have  you  to  speak  to  me?"  ex- 
claimed the  young  lady,  with  burning  indignation,  j 
"Why  did  your  people  invade  our  country?    But  \ 
you  will  never  conquer  us.    We  will  never  yield  !  / 
We  will  shed  the  last  drop  of  our  blood  before  youl 
shall  trample  on  us !  "  I 

A  place  with  such  memories  and  such  heart3  is 
worth  attention,  —  is  it  not  ? 

For  my  own  part,  I  never  go  to  Winchester, 
without  thinking,  "Here  is  the  true  South  !  The 
hearts  around  me  here  were  faithful  in  the  dark 
days  as  in  the  bright.    They  were  true,  under  all 


106 


WINCJLES  T EB. 


trials,  to  the  bitter  end ;  and.  when  others  faltered, 
when  others  doubted,  when  brave  men  shrunk,  and 
the  most  hopeful  despaired,  then  Winchester  was 
most  resolved,  —  her  resolution  faltered  least.  Losing 
peace,  competence,  and  suffering  all  woes,  she  still 
kept  that  irreproachable  honour,  of  which  nothing 
can  ever  deprive  her,  winning  a  clenched  hand  fa? 
crest,  and  for  motto,  :  True  to  the  last! '  " 


xvni. 


EARLY  AND  SOME  BRAVES  OF  THE   7ALLEY  ARMS. 

In  this  September.  1864,  General  Early  was 
occupying  Winchester.  His  little  army,  of  eight  or 
ten  thousand,  of  all  arms,  was  east  of  the  town. 
General  Sheridan's  forces,  consisting  of  thirty-five 
thousand  infantry,  and  ten  thousand  cavalry,  were 
lying  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Opequon,  a  few  miles 
distant. 

So  much  in  passing  simply.  The  present  memoii 
deals  with  the  Partisans,  not  the  "  regular  troops. 
At  some  other  time  I  may  describe  that  bitterly  con- 
tested and  long-doubtful  battle  of  the  Opequon, 
where  Early  held  his  ground  all  day,  although  out- 
numbered five  to  one.  At  present  I  do  not  touch 
the  great  canvas,  contenting  myself  with  rapid  out- 
lines of  a  few  famous  figures  seen  at  Winchester 
then. 

I  found  the  brave  General  Early  in  his  tent,  near 
Winchester.  Any  one  would  have  known  him. 
The  piercing  eyes,  the  curling  hair,  the  mordant 
smile,  and  stooping  shoulders,  could  belong  to  nc 
i«ne  but  the  fearless  and  obstinate  fighter.  callc4 

ID? 


108 


EARL  Y  AM)  HIS  BRA  VES. 


familiarly  by  his  men  "  Old  Jube."  Nicknames 
indicate  regard,  when  employed  by  troops.  There 
were  some  who  disliked  the  general  for  his  rigid  dis- 
cipline ;  but  none  were  absurd  enough  to  doubt  his 
courage. 

"  Old  Jube  aint  afraid  of  the  devil!  "  was  the 
rough  saying  in  the  army.  Indeed,  in  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia  there  was  no  more  resolute 
soldier. 

The  general  greeted  me  with  a  friendly  smile,  and 
we  had  a  long  talk. 

"  Grant  has  been  up  to  see  his  young  friend, 
1  Cavalry  Sheridan/  "  he  said,  with  that  long-drawn 
and  deliberate  intonation,  -amounting  nearly  to  a 
drawl,  and  smiling  satirically  as  he  spoke.  1 1  Grant 
is  a  tremendous  specimen  of  a  soldier,  and  has  given 
Sheridan  a  tremendous  order." 

"What?" 

"  To  1  go  in  ; '  that  is,  swallow  a  certain  inoffensive 
General  Early  !  "  And  the  speaker  uttered  a  short 
laugh,  which  I  echoed. 

At  the  same  moment  Colonel  C  entered,  and 

I  exchanged  with  the  brave  artillerist  a  cordial 
shake  of  the  hand.  The  colonel  then  turned  to 
Early  and  said :  — 

"General,  I  have  come  to  ask  permission  to  go 
down  to  Annfield  to  see  my  family  for  twenty-four 
hours." 


EAMLY  AND  HIS  BRAVE'S. 


109 


The  general  shook  his  head. 
"  Can't  give  you  leave,  colonel." 
•c  But  I  have  no  horse,  general,  and  can  get  one 
at  home." 

"  Borrow  one,  colonel,"  retorted  the  general,  with 
a  humourous  drawl.  1 '  I  have  been  riding  a  borrowed 
horse  through  the  whole  campaign."  * 

It  was  impossible  to  avoid  laughing  at  the  tone  of 

the  speaker's  voice;    and  Colonel  C   laughed 

too. 

As  he  went  out,  General  Rodes  entered,  followed 
by  General  Ramseur. 

Did  you  meet,  during  the  late  war,  those  two 
heroic  souls,  reader?  If  not,  let  me  draw  a  rapid 
outline  of  them ;  they  deserve  it.  Among  the  braves: 
who  fell  fighting  in  that  terrible  year  1864,  none 
were  braver,  none  more  devoted,  than  the  Virginian 
Rodes  and  the  North  Carolinian  Ramseur. 

Rodes  —  tall,  slender,  quiet,  with  blue  eyes,  long, 
light  hair,  light  beard,  and  a  smile  as  sweet  as  a 
woman's  —  impressed  you  slightly  at  first  view. 
But  a  second  glance  revealed  more.  When  he  spoke, 
his  voice  was  brief,  resolute,  quiet,  but  commanding. 
For  the  rest,  your  true  soldier  does  not  always  look 
like  a  soldier.  How  many  burly,  black-bearded 
giants,  with  thunderous  voices  and  boastings,  have  1 
seen  falter  !    How  many  smooth-fa  ;ed,  girlish,  low- 


110 


EARLY  AND  BIS  BBAVEg. 


voiced  boys  have  I  known  who  would  fight  to  the 
last  and  die  unmoved  !  Willie  Pegram,  —  shrinking 
and  shy,  with  the  face  and  bearing  of  a  girl,  —  how 
you  fought  and  fell,  thrilling  the  whole  Southern 
army  with  that  courage  of  the  bull-dog  ! 

Ramseur  presented  a  strong  contrast  to  his  com- 
panion. Of  medium  height,  dark-haired,  with  black 
beard  and  eyes,  animated,  a  real  soldier  in  bearing, 
you  saw  that  he  would  lead  a  forlorn  hope  into  the 
muzzles  of  hostile  cannon,  and  fight  against  any  odds 
to  the  last. 

I  spent  an  hour  with  the  three  generals,  and  then 
took  my  leave.  As  I  left  Early's  tent,  I  met  one 
who  was  building  up  then  a  great  fame,  —  General 
Gordon. 

Gordon  was  a  soldier  born,  —  from  head  to  foot, 
soldier.  The  penetrating  glance,  the  proud  head 
flanked  by  long  hair  carried  behind  the  ears,  the  firm 
lips,  the  resolute  chin,  the  commanding  carriage 
of  the  whole  person,  showed  that  he  was  born  for 
leadership.  His  fame  was  a  late-growing  flower; 
but  how  dazzling  was  the  bloom  when  it  came  ! 
Have  you  ever  seen  the  "  Giant-of-battle "  rose, 
reader  ?  —  that  superb,  full  disc,  of  flashing  crimson, 
which  Stuart  so  loved?  Here  was  the  human 
"giant  of  battle," — the  man  whose  name  was  to 
electrify  the  whole  army,  as  it  will  electrify  the 
future  ;  who,  at  Cedar  Creek,  the  Wilderness,  aU 


EARLY  AND  HIS  Bit  A  VES.  Ill 


along  the  road  to  Petersburg,  at  Hare5  3  Hill,  and  in 
the  last  charge  at  Appomattox,  was  to  win  a  fame, 
shining  clear,  among  the  brightest  in  history. 

I  look  back  and  remember  meeting  many  great 
men ;  among  them,  few  rise  in  stature  to  the  level 
of  Gordon.  To  receive  his  modest  and  cordial 
salute,  with  the  friendly  smile,  charmed  me ;  to 
press  that  hand,  that  held  the  sword-hilt  with  a  grasp 
so  heroic  in  battle,  was  a  very  great  honour.  I 
thought  so  then ;  I  think  so  more  than  ever  to-day. 

Health  and  happiness  attend  you,  general !  You 
tread  already  on  the  shining  heights  of  history. 
Three  names  to-day  are  greeted  with  a  strange  en- 
thusiasm in  the  South.  Those  names  are  Lee, 
Hampton,  and  Gordon. 

And  now,  looking  back  to  that  day  at  Winchester, 
I  remember,  with  sighs,  what  the  near  hours  brought. 

Ramseur  killed  at  the  Opequon  ;  Bodes  killed  at 
Cedar  Creek :  Early  driven  into  exile,  —  how  the 
strong  hours  crush  us  ! 

But  these  reflections  are  sad.  Let  us  dismiss 
them  and  record  more  cheerful  things. 

I  was  invited  on  this  evening  to  meet  my  friend, 
General  Fitzhugh  Lee,  at  Mr.  M  's ;  and,  ap- 
proaching the  handsome  portico  flooded  with  moon- 
light, had  a  charming  surprise. 

Leaning  on  General  Lee's  arm  was — Miss  May 
Beverley  ! 


XIX. 


FITZHUGH  LEE,  THE  GAY  AND  GALLANT. 

"Under  all  the  circumstances,"  I  think  I  will 
Bay  nothing  more  of  Miss  May  Beverley. 

Unfortunately,  that  young  lady  has  already  been 
brought  too  prominently  before  the  world  in  the  first 
series  of  my  Memoirs,  to  which  my  friend,  the  edi- 
tor, has  given  the  title  "  Surry  of  Eagle's  Nest." 

If  you  have  perused  that  volume,  you  mu3t  have 
felt  some  surprise,  my  dear  reader,  that  a  young 
damsel's  private  life  and  affairs  of  the  heart  should 
have  been  dwelt  upon  so  unreservedly.  But  a  word 
will  explain  all.  My  memoirs  were  written  for  my 
own  family,  and  published  only  "by  request  of 
friends." 

In  sending  off  the  MS.,  a  pencil-mark  was  drawn 
through  the  obnoxious  chapters.  By  some  accident, 
however,  they  were  printed,  and  Miss  Beverley's 
affairs  were  made  public.  To-day,  to  avoid  all  fur- 
ther indiscretion,  I  preserve  silence. 

So,  worthy  reader,  if  you  are  curious  about  Miss 
May  Beverley  ;  if  you  wish  to  know  how  this  star  of 
loveliness  and  goodness  (be  still,  madam,  and  dos  t 

112 


fitZhugh  lee.  113 


be  so  impolite  as  to  look  ove**  my  shoulder ' )  rose 
above  the  horizon  of  my  life;  if  you  weald  find 
where  we  met  first ;  how  I  became  a  fortunate  vic- 
tim, —  you  have  only  to  read  tie  Memoirs  to  which 
I  refer. 

In  this  place  I  will  only  say  that  mademoiselle 
looked  quite  charming,  and  that  the  great  violet 
eyes  and  waving  chestnut  hair  were  brighter  than 
in  the  old  days  of  1861,  at  "  The  Oaks."  She  had 
come  to  Winchester  on  a  visit,  and  I  had  not  seen 
her  at  Colonel  Beverley's.  Her  smile  was  sunshine, 
her  lips  as  red  as  carnations,  and  the  rose  in  her 
hair  looked  faded  beside  the  two  that  bloomed  in  her 
cheeks !  (Are  you  satisfied,  madam  ?  That  is 
rather  well-turned,  I  think !  You  see  I  have  not 
forgotten ;  that  I  remember  you  with  the  eyes  as  well 
as  the  heart !  I  go  away  from  Eagle's  N~est,  where 
I  write  this  with  your  face  bending  over  me,  in  1868, 
to  Winchester,  in  1864,  when  you  were  far  less 
demonstrative  !  I  see  your  smiles,  hear  your  voice, 
and  listen  !  There  is  the  gay  laughter  oi  the  gal- 
lant General  Fitz  Lee,  as  he  looks  at  me  in  triumph, 
and  bears  you  off,  in  the  moonlight,  with  the  white 
hand  on  the  gold  braid  of  his  gray  coat-sleeve  !) 

I  wish  I  had  time  and  space  to  make  a  portrait  of 
that  brave  soldier  and  gentleman,  Major-Genera] 
Fitzhugh  Lee,  or  "  General  Fitz,"  as  we  used  to 
call  him  in  the  army.  Never  was  born  into  this 
8 


114 


FITZHUGH  LEE. 


world  a  gayer,  more  sparkling  spirit,  a  truer  corn- 
rade,  a  finer  representative  of  the  great  race  of 
cavaliers.  You  had  only  to  look  at  this*  dashing 
sahreur^  —  the  bosom-friend  of  Stuart, --at  this 
"cavalryman  all  over,"  with  the  soul  of  merriment, 
truth,  courage,  frolic,  resolution,  and  unwavering 
1  'pluck,"  to  see  that  he  was  born  for  the  career  of 
arms,  for  the  life  of  the  bivouac  and  the  battle-field. 
As  we  pass,  however  hurriedly,  let  us  glance  at  him 
for  an  instant.  Here  he  is,  with  his  low  and  athletic 
figure,  his  well-worn  uniform,  cavalry  boots,  gay 
sash,  and  brown  hat  with  its  black  feather.  See  the 
flowing  brown  beard,  and  heavy  mustache,  like 
Stuart's ;  the  lips  curling  with  laughter ;  the  eyes 
flashing  with  good-humour ;  hear  the  voice,  rich  and 
mellow  ;  note  the  bearing  full  of  fun,  and  the  insou- 
ciant cavalry  ease.  A  glance  tells  you  that  this 
man  is  ready  to  mount  at  a  moment's  warning ;  that 
the  small  white  hand  will  go  to  the  sword-hilt  in- 
stinctively, and  that,  wherever  sabres  clash,  he  will 
be  present. 

You  will  find  in  many  volumes,  reader,  an  ac- 
count of  Fitzhugh  Lee's  performances :  how  he 
fought  through  all  the  battles  of  Stuart ;  originated 
the  " Buckland-races  "  ruse;  drove  amain,  with  his 
troopers,  through  the  smoke  of  Manassas,  Boonsboro', 
Sharpsburg,  Gettysburg;  fought  Sheridan  in  the 
great  campaigns  of  1864,  and  on  Lee's  retreat,  in 


FITZHTJOH  LEE. 


115 


18G5,  commanded  the  rear  guard  of  the  army,  fight- 
ing at  every  step,  and  made  the  last  cavalry  charge 
at  Appomattox,  ten  minutes  before  the  surrender. 
All  this  you  will  read,  and  you  will  find  the  testi- 
mony of  his  great  kinsman,  General  R.  E.  Lee  : 
"  Your  admirable  conduct,  devotion  to  the  cause  of 
your  country,  and  devotion  to  duty,  fill  me  with 
pleasure."  Read  all  that  in  the  books,  friend.  Here 
I  show  you  not  Major-General  Fitzhugh  Lee,  fight- 
ing obstinately  on  desperate  fields,  but  Fitz  Lee,  the 
gay  ani  gallant,  laughing  as  he  bears  off,  with 
twinkling  eyes,  in  the  moonlight,  the  sweetheart 
(pardon  that  old  word,  reader!)  of  the  unfortunate 
Colonel  Surry. 

I  had  recaptured  the  young  lady,  had  my  own  littlo 
talk,  and  was  laughing  with  my  friend,  "  General 
Fitz/''  when  a  courier  brought  me  a  despatch  It 
was  from  General  Lee's  head-quarters,  through 
General  Early's,  and  directed  me  to  make  a  thorough 
inspection  of  the  entire  Partisan  forces  of  the  region. 

An  hour  afterwards,  I  had  made  all  my  prepara- 
tions to  obey  this  order,  which  would  take  me  into 
the  heart  of  "  Mosby's  Confederacy." 

I  had  parted  from  Fitzhugh  Lee  with  a  warm 
pressure  of  the  hand,  little  supposing  that  in  a  few 
days  he  would  be  prostrated  by  a  dangerous  wound, 
in  a  hot  fight  with  Sheridan's  cavalry.  It  laid  him 
up  for  months,  but  he  was  again  in  the  field  in  the 


116 


FITZEUGH  LEE. 


spring  fighting  as  before  To  the  end  he  continued 
fighting,  and  he  was  the  last  to  lay  down  his  sword. 

lie  is  yonder  to-day,  at  11  Richland,"  on  the  Poto- 
mac, and  an  old  comrade,  from  "  Eagle's  Nest,'5 
sends  him  greeting  in  the  dull  hours. 

Health  and  happiness,  "  General  Fitz  !  "  May 
the  breezes  of  the  Chesapeake,  which  pass  Richland, 
bear  away  the  noise  of  laughter  !  Ten  thousand 
hearts  are  beating  in  the  South  to-day  which  re- 
member you.  Ten  thousand  voices  would  repeat  for 
you  the  words  of  our  old  army  ballad, 

"  Here's  my  heart,  &&&  here's  my  hand," 

as  does  the  comrade  of  old  times,  who  writes  this 


XX. 


THE  TORCH. 

The  order  which  I  had  received  to  make 
spection  of  the  Partisan  commands  was  far  from  difr 
agreeable. 

It  enabled  me  to  remain  longer  in  the  region  than 
my  original  orders  contemplated ;  and  it  thus  seemed 
probable  that  I  would  witness  the  sequel  of  Landon's 
highly  "dramatic"  afthir  with  Ratcliffe. 

I  really  longed  to  *>-5  present,  or  not  very  far  off, 
when  the  denouement  of  the  tragedy  took  place; 
and  I  hope  the  reader  will  not,  on  that  account,  re- 
gard me  as  a  very  prying  personage.  He  would  do 
me  injustice.  I  have  always  had  a  very  profound 
respect  for  the  individual  —  read  of  in  romances  — 
who  made  an  ample  fortune  by  attending  to  his  own 
business  (And  here  )et  me  exclaim,  parenthetically, 
Oh,  tu  make  his  acquaintance,  If  he  be  still  alive  !  or 
to  know,  even,  some  member  cf  his  ' £  small  and  se- 
lect "  family  !  Up  to  the  present  time,  I  have  failed 
to  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  their  acquaintance  !) 

Not  from  prying  curiosity,  then,  but  from  rational 
interest  in  a  very  curious  drama,  I  had  come  to  feel 

lit 


118 


THE  TOE  OS. 


that  desire  to  be  near  when  Landon  and  Ratcliffe 
settled  their  differences.  That  the  settlement  would 
be  bloody,  there  was  little  doabt.  Between  these 
two  human  beings  there  yms  evidently  a  bitter  fend 
What  was  the  origin  of  it?  How  would  it  termi- 
nate? What  had  been  the  relations  between  Mis? 
Adair  and  Landon,  and  had  not  Ratcliffe  played  a 
part  in  the  drama  of  these  two  lives  ?  I  had  a  de- 
cided longing  to  penetrate  these  mysteries ;  to  ascer- 
tain what  tie  had  bound  my  cool  and  resolute  friend 
Landon  to  the  young  girl  who  had  appeared  so  sud- 
denly in  the  Old  Chapel  graveyard :  to  know  all 
about  him  and  Ratcliffe ;  to  see  what  would  be  the 
denouement  of  all  these  loves,  hatreds,  and  ven- 
geances. 

So  I  shook  General  Early's  hand,  and  bade  that 
hardy  soldier  farewell,  to  go  back  to  the  Partisans. 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning  in  early  September. 
The  road  which  I  followed  was  the  main  one  to 
Millwood  and  Ashby's  Gap ;  and,  passing  the  Ope- 
quon,  I  pushed  on,  winding  amid  the  hills,  whose 
slopes  were  covered  with  the  yellow  and  golden  tints 
of  the  approaching  autumn. 

Leaving  the  "pine  hills"  as  they  are  called,  I 
advanced  steadily,  without  encountering  a  single 
horseman,  and  had  entered  a  forest  within  two  01 
three  miles  of  Millwood,  when  all  at  once  I  caught 
sight,  through  the  tree-trunks,  of  a  red  flag,  then  of 


THE  TOUCH. 


119 


a  column  of  mounted  men  drawn  up  at  tho  mouth  of 
a  road  debouching  into  the  main  highway. 

A  second  glance  told  me  that  they  were  Landon's 
men,  and  I  was  soon  at  his  side. 

He  greeted  me,  as  did  Arden,  with  a  close  pres- 
sure of  the  hand,  and  in  a  few  words  I  explained 
what  had  happened  after  our  parting  at  the  Old 
Chapel. 

"  Good  !  "  he  said,  "I  am  glad  he  got  away  from 
you,  colonel." 
"Ratcliffe?" 
"  Yes." 

I  laughed  and  said,  "  Is  he  a  particular  friend  of 
yours?  " 

"  Yes;  and  I  think  I  am  going  to  put  my  hand 
on  him  this  morning,  when  I  promise  you  he  will 
not  get  away  so  easily." 

Landon's  voice  was  as  cool  and  measured  as  ever, 
but  there  was  an  unwonted  light  in  his  eyes.  It  was 
the  light  in  the  eye  of  the  bloodhound  who  sees  his 
prey  and  longs  to  spring  upon  it. 

"Hatcliffe  is  yonder,"  he  continued,  pointing 
across  the  woods  to  the  right.  "  I  have  sent  Touch- 
and-go  to  capture  the  vidette,  so  as  te  surprise  him.'5 

"What  is  his  force?" 

"  About  eighty. 

"Your  own?" 

"  About  thirty." 


120 


THE  TORCH. 


"  Look  out !  '  I  said,  pointing  to  a  figure  in  blue, 
hastening  toward  us;  "they  are  coming  to  reconnoitre 

u  It  is  Touch-and-go.  Well?"  he  said,  quickly, 
as  the  scout  approached. 

"  Eighty-five  men,  captain.  I  counted  them  as 
they  wound  over  the  hill  toward  Saratoga.'' 

"Good!  and  the  vidette?" 

"He  is  dead.  He  was  at  the  gate  in  the  stone 
fence.  I  walked  straight  up  to  him,  thinking  my 
blue  coat  would  fool  him;  but  he  snapped  his  car- 
bine at  me." 

"And—" 

"I  did  not  wish  to  shoot  him,  for  fear  of  alarming 
them ;  so  I  got  hold  of  his  carbine  and  knocked  out 
his  brains  with  the  butt-end." 

"All  right.  Come  on,  colonel ;  we  are  losing 
time,"  said  Landon. 

And,  placing  himself  at  the  head  of  his  men, 
he  went  down  the  road  toward  Millwood  at  a  thun- 
dering gallop. 

Emerging  from  the  xvoods,  the  Blue  Ridge  and 
Ashby's  Gap  were  right  before  us,  swimming  in 
delicate  mist.  On  the  right  extended  a  large  field, 
enclosed  by  a  stone  fence,  in  which  there  was  a  gate, 
which  seemed  to  lead  into  a  house  beyond  the  hill. 

Across  the  road  lay  the  dead  vidette.  Hi3  horse 
vas  grazing  in  the  high  road. 


THE  ^ORCII. 


121 


Landon's  men  swept  through  the  gatj,  formed  ool 
ttmn  with  drawn  sabres,  and  darted  onward. 

^Suddenly  a  dense  smoke  rose  beyond  the  hill,  — 
dirk,  threatening,  and  tinged  with  the  red  glare  of 
flames. 

Then  we  heard  on  the  wind  the  low  and  monot- 
onous crackling  of  a  conflagration. 

"  They  are  burning  the  house ! "  exclaimed  Arden. 

"  No,  it  is  too  far  to  the  left,"  said  Landon.  "  It 
is  the  barn  and  stable ;  the  house  will  follow,  or 
would.''" 

And,  turning  in  his  saddle  at  full  gallop,  Landon 
pointed  with  his  sword  to  the  smoke. 
"  Do  you  see  ?  "  he  said. 
A  yell  answered. 

"These  people  are  burning  barns  and  houses, 
starving  women  and  children  1  The  fewer  the  pris- 
oners we  take  the  better  !  " 

The  men  replied  with  a  shout;  and,  as  though 
driven  onward  by  that  shout,  the  column  rushed  to 
the  attack 


XXI. 


"  BEFORE  TOMORROW  YOU  WILL  BE  DEAD  —  OR  1 
WILL.'7 

In  a  moment,  it  seemed  to  me.  the  little  band  of 
Rangers  had  swept  across  the  extensive  field,  thun- 
dered down  a  rocky  declivity,  passed  at  full  gallop 
through  a  small  stream,  and  a  second  gate,  and 
dashed  up  the  hill  to  the  threatened  mansion. 

It  stood  upon  a  knoll,  with  an  emerald  slope  in 
front,  at  the  foot  of  which  a  weeping  willow  laved 
its  tassels  in  the  water  of  a  little  stream.  Around 
the  old  portico  grew  flowers.  Ail  had  an  air  of 
peace,  and  home,  and  welcome. 

Or  would  have  had, — for  the  grounds,  the  portico, 
the  mansion,  swarmed  with  blue  coats,  whose  horses 
were  scattered  over  the  lawn.  Half  had  gone  to  fire 
the  barn  beyond,  —  a  struciure  containing  stalls  for 
fifty  horses ;  half  stayed  to  firo  ;the  house.  In  a 
dozen  hands  streaming  torches  were  seen ;  if  we  had 
arrived  an  instant  later,  the  mansion  would  have 
been  destroyed.  The  rush  of  Landon  and  his  men 
up  the  hill  was  magnificent. 

"  Charge  !  "  thundered  the  Rangers. 

122 


THE  THE  EAT. 


123 


And  at  that  sound  the  blue  horsemen  turneu  sud- 
lenly,  and  opened  fire. 

Landon  did  not  pause.  In  three  bounds  he  was 
»n  front  of  the  portico,  and  his  sabre  had  descended 
ducc,  twice,  thrice,  cutting  down  a  man  at  each 
stroke. 

Tlien,  leaping  from  his  horse,  and  drawing  his 
pistol  with  his  left  hand,  —  his  right  still  holding  his 
bloody  sabre.  —  he  rushed  into  the  mansion. 

I  followed,  and  we  burst  into  a  large  apartment 
on  the  right,  with  a  tall  mantel-piece,  wainscoting, 
and  decorated,  at  one  end,  I  remember,  by  the  half- 
length  portrait  of  a  gentleman  which  looked  serenely 
down  amid  the  uproar. 

The  room  was  full  of  Federal  soldiers,  smashing 
the  glass  ware  on  the  sideboard,  and  tearing  open 
every  door  in  search  of  plate. 

Others  were  endeavouring  to  fire  the  apartment, 
and  in  the  centre  of  them  I  saw  Ratcliffe. 

Landon  rushed  upon  him,  firing  as  he  did  so: 
then,  shortening  his  sword,  lunged  straight  at  his 
heart. 

Ratcliffe  parried  the  blow;  then  bounded  back- 
ward ;  and  then  his  men  rushed  upon  Landon  and 
myself,  firing  and  cutting  at  us.  But  the  tables 
were  quickly  turned.  The  grim  faces  of  the  Rangers 
appeared  at  the  Partisans'  back ;  they  threw  them- 
selves upon  the  Federal  soldiers,  and,  in  less  timr 


124 


THE  THE  EAT. 


than  is  required  to  write  it,  the  blue  coats  had  van- 
ished through  the  rear  door  of  the  mansion,  and 
thrown  themselves  upon  their  horses. 

Landon  uttered  a  sort  of  growl,  and,  rushing  to  his 
horse,  went  with  drawn  sabre  on  the  track  of  Ratcliffe, 
who  galloped  headlong  among  his  flying  men. 

The  Rangers  followed,  shouting  and  firing.  Then, 
in  front  of  the  burning  barn  and  stables,  an  obsti- 
nate combat  ensued,  —  a  wild  melee  of  shots,  clash- 
ing s words,  jells,  groans,  over  which  rose  the  rear 
of  the  flames. 

Landon  had  come  up  with  Ratcliffe. 

"  At  last !  "  I  heard  him  say,  as  he  closed  in  with 
the  Federal  captain. 

And  in  an  instant  he  was  boot  to  boot  with  Rat- 
cliffe, had  caught  him  by  the  throat,  and,  shortening 
his  sword  again,  he  plunged  it  I  thought  through 
his  adversary's  breast.  I  was  mistaken.  By  a 
quick  movement,  Ratcliffe  evaded  the  blow,  and 
fired  at  his  opponent,  —  body  to  body. 

The  ball  missed  its  mark,  but  passed  through  the 
throat  of  the  Partisan's  horse.  The  animal  uttered 
a  shrill  cry,  threw  up  his  head,  staggered,  and  fell, 
dragging  down  his  rider. 

But  Landon  in  turn  dragged  Ratcliffe.  Nothing 
seemed  able  to  make  him  release  his  grasp.  Clutch- 
ing the  Federal  captain  by  the  throat,  he  dragged 
him  irom  the  saddle,  fell  upon  him,  and,  half  rising, 


THE  THE  EAT 


125 


drew  back  his  arm  to  drive  the  poiat  of  his  sabre 
through  his  enemy's  heart. 

Katcliffe  writhed  and  half  rose. 

"  I  surrender  !  "  he  cried. 

"I'll  take  no  surrender  from  you,  cursed  hound! v 
exclaimed  Landon. 

But  suddenly  a  whirlwind  seemed  to  sweep  over 
them.  Before  Landon  could  stab  his  adversary,  the 
Federal  horse  broke  in  wild  flight;  passed  tram- 
pling over  the  two  adversaries;  and,  rising  half 
stunned  to  his  feet,  his  face  pale,  his  teeth  set,  his 
head  uncovered,  and  with  the  bleeding  marks  of 
hoofs  upon  his  forehead,  Landon  looked  round  him. 

The  Federal  cavalry  were  flying  wildly,  pursued 
by  the  Rangers.  At  his  feet  lay  Katcliffe,  uttering 
deep  groans. 

Landon' s  laugh  replied. 

"  Good !  "  he  muttered.  "  I  said  I  would  put  my 
hand  on  you.  Before  to-morrow  you  will  be  dead, 
or  I  will!" 


xxn. 


LIEUTENANT   ARDEN*  U.S.A. 

I  WAS  close  beside  Laiidon  when  he  uttered  these 
words.    Never  had  I  seen  him  look  so  happy. 
"  You  will  fight  him ?"  I  said. 
"Yes." 

"  A  prisoner?  " 

"  I  will  release  him." 

"  And  his  second?  " 

Landon  pointed  to  a  squad  of  prisoners  approach- 
ing. Suddenly  among  them  I  recognized  young 
Lieutenant  Arden,  U.S.A.,  who  had  exhibited  such 
courage  at  the  house  of  Miss  Annie  a  few  days 
before. 

"There  is  a  lieutenant, "  said  Landon;  "he  will 
act  as  second." 

And  seeing  that  Ratcliffe  had  half  risen  and  was 
watching  him,  ho  said  :  — 

"  I  refused  to  give  you  quarter  just  now;  I  now 
offer  it  on  one  condition." 

'*  What  condition  ?  "  he  said,  sullenly. 

"  That  you  fight  me  to-night." 

"l  I  am  bruised  —  bleeding." 


'V 


LIEUTENANT  ABDEN,  U*  S.  A.  127 


"  So  am  I." 

And  Landon  pointed  to  his  bloody  forehead. 

"  Choose  !  "  he  added ;  "  either  fight  or  prepare  to 
be  shot !  I  hold  no  parley  with,  and  have  no  mercy 
for,  house-burner^!." 

"I  will  fight  you  —  if  paroled,"  growled  Bat- 
cliffe. 

Landon  looked  at  him. 
"Paroled?— you?" 

"  Do  you  doubt  my  honour,  sir  ?  "  exclaimed  Rat- 
cliffe,  starting  up. 

Landon' s  expression  was  indescribable. 

"Not  at  all,  sir,"  he  sake,  soolly;  "you  are  pa- 
roled, and  will  please  select  your  second  from  the 
prisoners  yonder.  Colonel  Surry,  will  you  be  good 
enough  to  act  for  me?" 

I  bowed  and  looked  toward  Ratcliffe. 

He  recognized  me  and  scowled  bitterly. 

"  Ah  !  I  see  you  remember  me,  my  dear  Captain 
Ratcliffe,"  I  said,  laughing.  "Iam  still  riding  your 
horse,  —  an  excellent  one.    But  your  second  ?  " 

"Lieutenant  Arden,"  he  said,  sullenly,  pointing 
to  the  young  officer. 

I  bowed  again,  and  went  and  introduced  myself 
to  Lieutenant  Arden,  U.S.A.,  who  received  me  with 
great  politeness.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  any- 
thing more  tranquil  than  his  demeanour.  He  told 
with  a  smile  that  his  horse  had  been  shot  under  him, 


128  LIEUTENANT  ABDEN,  U.  8.  A. 


his  sabre  cut  from  his  side,  his  pistol  knocked  from 
his  hand,  and  "they  had  ended  by  riding  over  him, 
and  demanding  his  surrender." 

"Whereupon  you  surrendered,  lieutenant?"  I 
said,  laughing. 

"  Of  course,"  he  replied,  with  a  smile. 

"  Well,  you  did  not  do  so  the  other  night,  on  youi 
visit  to  a  young  lady  of  our  acquaintance." 

And  I  pointed  toward  the  Opequon. 

"  Were  you  there?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  but  not  among  your  opponents." 

1 A  queer  affair.  They  ought  to  have  killed  me. 
My  visit  was  unlucky." 

"'Your  visit?" 

"  To  the  young  lady.  Is  she  a  friend  of  yours, 
colonel  ?  " 

He  smiled  and  glanced  at  me  curiously. 

"Don't  fight  me!"  he  said.  "1  went  to  carry 
her  a  pass  through  the  lines,  which  I  heard  she 
wished.  I  have  seen  her  but  once  before,  and  I  did 
not  know  —  " 

He  paused  and  sighed. 

"  That  your  brother  loved  her  ?  u 

He  looked  at  me. 

"  You  know  all,  I  see.  Well,  colonel,  so  be  it. 
At  least  you  now  understand  why  it  would  have 
been  stupid  to  have  been  killed  that  night.  Unjust, 
too.    I  was  doing  a  good  action." 


LIEUTENANT  ABDEN,  U.  S.  A.  129 


And  seeing  our  Arden  approach,  the  prisoner 
went  to  him  and  said,  laughing :  — 
"  How  are  you,  Harry?  " 

The  young  man  leaped  from  his  horse  and  turew 
his  arms  round  his  brother's  neck. 

Blue  and  gray  were  clasped  tight  in  each  other's 
arms ! 

When  they  drew  back  I  think  there  were  tears  in 
the  eyes  of  both.    Then,  bowing  toward  me :  — 

"At  your  orders,  colonel,"  said  Lieutea&&4 
Arden,  U.S.A. 


xxrrt 


BIZARRE. 

The  terms  of  the  combat  between  Landon  and 
Ratcliffe  were  speedily  arranged  by  myself  and 
Lieutenant  Arden.  whom  I  found  to  be  a  perfect 
gentleman. 

Pistols  were  chosen:  the  meeting  was  to  take 
place  at  a  spot  on  the  banks  of  the  Shenandoah, 
called  "Lover's  Leap,"  near  which  Landon  designed 
to  bivouac  that  night,  and  the  hour  determined  upon 
was  daylight  next  morning. 

Having  perfected  tnese  arrangements  with  Lieu- 
tenant Arden,  U.S.A.,  I  made  that  gentleman  a 
bow,  and,  turning  him  over  to  his  brother,  who  was 
plainly  dying  to  talk  to  him,  returned,  and  reported 
to  Landon. 

"A  thousand  thanks,  colonel^  he  said,  quietly; 
and  Ratcliffe,  having  bt,en  supplied  with  a  captured 
horse,  Landon,  who  had  mounted  another,  began  to 
move  with  his  troop  toward  the  Blue  Ridge. 

The  result  of  the  combat  had  been  a  few  prison- 
ers' and  many  dead  bodies  in  blue.    Landon's  loss 


BIZ  AIM  E. 


131 


was  half  a  dos*en  wounded.  Behind  us  smouldered 
the  black  ruin 

The  little  body  of  horsemen  slowly  took  their  way 
toward  the  Shenandoah.  Winding  along  through 
a  secluded  glen,  studded  with  mossy  rocks,  they 
passed  through  a  gate  in  the  stone  fence,  turned  to 
the  left,  and,  following  a  shaded  road,  made  thei? 
way  through  the  country  between  Millwood  and 
White  Post. 

Oh,  the  lovely  region  as  we  rode  on,  that  Sep- 
tember !  Oh,  the  trees  touched  with  gold,  and  the 
mountains  bathed  in  azure  !  It  was  a  land  all  ro- 
mance, you  would  have  said,  gentle  reader,  where 
the  graces  danced,  and  the  loves  disported.  Noth- 
ing stirred  the  air  but  the  winds  in  the  forest,  the 
music  of  cascades,  and  the  murmur  of  the  Shenan- 
doah beneath  its  sycamore  * 

Nothing  else?  Hcs*r  tnat  muttering  from  the 
direction  of  Winchester  i  It  is  Early's  war-dogs 
growling,  and  showing  Sheridan  their  teeth.  Loves 
and  graces  ?  Look  at  tftese  figures,  bearded  and 
grim,  —  the  figures  in  gray  and  blue.  Murmuring 
waterfalls  ?    You  hear  the  rattle  of  the  sabre  ! 

But  the  land  was  beautiful  if  the  red  hoof  had 
stamped  upon  it.  It  is  beautiful  to-day,  and  will  be 
beautiful  forever ;  for  the  blue  mountains  yonder  are 
laughing  at  factions,  parties,  and  intrigues  in  1868, 
as  they  echoed,  with  hoarse  laughter,  in  their  fir- 


132 


BIZ  ABE  E. 


clad  gorges,  the- roar  of  the  cannon,  in  that  strange 
year  1864. 

As  the  sun  was  sinking  toward  the  forest  we  saw 
the  "Blue  Ball,"  as  a  peak  of  the  mountain  is 
called,  right  before  us,  and  the  voice  of  the  river 
aacended  in  a  low  murmur  from  its  bed  hundreds  of 
feet  beneath  us. 

On  a  hill  rose  an  old  and  very  stately-looking 
mansion.    Landon  pointed  to  it  and  said  :  — 

"This  is  my  house,  'Bizarre,'  colonel.  I  am 
glad  to  have  you  visit  it." 

A  ride  of  fifteen  minutes  brought  us  in  front  of 
the  old  mansion, — a  building  of  large  size,  with  some- 
thing "aristocratic"  about  it.  Pardon  that  obso- 
lete, old-fashioned  phrase,  reader. 

"Bizarre"  seemed  to  have  been  the  residence  of 
many  generations  of  gentlemen.  Half  in  ruins,  as 
it  was,  there  was  something  proud  and  imposing  in 
its  worn  facade.  You  could  see  that  men  and 
women  had  held  high  revelry  here  in  the  old  days 
when  Virginia  was  Virginia. 

At  a  sign  from  Landon  the  men  broke  ranks  and 
scattered  themselves  through  the  extensive  grounds, 
with  only  videttes  out.  Landon  calculated  rightly 
that  few  Federals  would  venture  to  penetrate  these 
great  woods. 

Captain  Ratcliffe  and  Lieutenant  Ralph  Arden 
were  ushered  into  the  mansion,  where  m  old  negro. 


BIZARRE, 


133 


who  seemed  to  be  the  genius  of  the  place,  hastened, 
bj  Landon7s  order,  to  provide  supper  for  them. 
They  were  not  placed  under  guard,  having  both 
given  their  paroles  not  to  attempt  to  escape ;  and, 
making  his  guests  a  low  bow,  Landon  went  out  of 
the  apartment. 

I  was  beside  him,  and  we  found  ourselves  in  the 
great  hall  of  the  mansion.  It  was  inexpressibly  bare 
and  Aesolate.  Old  portraits  mouldered  on  the  walls. 
From  some  huge  deer-antlers  hung  cobwebs.  The 
spider  was  lord  here,  and  reigned  in  joint  sovereign- 
ty with  the  mouse  and  the  moth. 

"A  deserted  old  affair  this,"  said  the  Partisan, 
coolly.  "  Those  tall-backed  chairs,  colonel,  and  these 
dingy  old  pictures,  are  all  that  remain  to  me,  except 
the  bare  walls." 

"  You  have  been  away  for  years,  I  suppose?  " 

"  Yes,  and  feel  almost  like  a  stranger." 

He  gazed  around  him  with  an  abstracted  look. 
An  expression  of  sadness  would  have  visited  the 
countenance  of  most  men.  Landon  seemed  tc  have 
no  room  in  his  heart  for  so  gentle  an  emotion.  Was 
this  man  made  of  marble  ?    I  tried  to  test  him. 

"You  are  the  last  of  your  line,  captain  ?;?  ( 
said. 

"Yes;  the  last." 
4 '  It  is  sorrowful." 


134 


BIZARRE. 


"  Many  things  are  sorrowful  in  this  world,  cola* 
nel." 

"  You  have  no  brothers  or  sisters  ?  " 
"None." 

'l  And  your  parents,  — your  family?  " 

"All  gone.  My  mother  was  the  last,  and  she 
died  some  years  since." 

The  marble  was  touched.  A  faint  tinge  came  to 
Landon's  cheeks. 

"I  loved  my  mother,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice; 
"  and  they  murdered  her  !  " 

A  quick  flash  of  the  eye  followed.  Turning  his 
head,  in  a  manner  inexpressibly  stern  and  haughty, 
he  glanced  toward  the  apartment  occupied  by  Rat- 
cliffe. 

"That  man  was  her  murderer,"  he  said.  "Do 
you  wonder  now  that  I  hate  him?  " 

His  brows  were  knit  together;  a  grim  smile  came 
to  his  lips. 

"  Luckily,  I  have  one  consolation,"  he  said,  in 
his  cool  voice.  "Like  Randolph  of  Roanoke,  I  am 
the  last  of  my  house ;  I  am  alone  in  the  world,  with- 
out father  or  mother,  brother  or  sister ;  I  am  a  mere 
waif,  an  estray,  —  a  stranger  here  in  the  halls  of  my 
forefathers;  but  good  fortune  has  not  wholly  de- 
Berted  me.  I  have  the  man  I  hate  most  in  this  world 
within  a  few  yards  of  me,  —  in  twelve  hours  or  less, 


BIZAHBE. 


135 


will  stand  facing  him,  when  I  hope  to  settle  once 
for  all,  our  little  account." 

Landon's  vibrating  and  metallic  voice  ceased,  and 
his  glance  wandered  to  a  portrait  on  the  wall.  It 
represented  a  lady  of  great  beauty  and  distinction, 
with  blue  eyes,  and  brown  hair  piled  up  upon  the 
forehead  ;  one  white  jewelled  hand  was  raised  to  the 
head-dress.  In  the  whole  portrait  there  was  some- 
thing exquisitely  high-bred  and  delicate. 

As  he  continued  to  gaze  at  this  picture,  the  colour 
upon  Landon's  cheeks  gradually  deepened ;  his  lips 
were  compressed  as  though  to  arrest  a  sob ;  in  his 
fiery  eye  glittered  something  like  a  tear. 

"I  thought  I  was  strong,"  he  muttered;  "but 
that  face  makes  me  a  child  again !  " 

"  Your  mother?" 

He  turned  quickly. 

"  Yes,  colonel,  my  poor  mother  !  She  left  me 
last,  and  that  finished  me." 

His  head  sank.  A  grim  contraction  of  the  browa 
betrayed  the  hidden  anguish.  All  at  once  he  turned 
his  head  and  looked  at  me. 

"All  this  must  seem  strange  to  you/'  he  said, 
"and  I  fear  you  think  me  something  of  a  charla- 
tan." 

"Captain!  " 

"  Only  charlatans  or  outcasts  change  their  names; 
conceal  themselves  ;  have  mysteries." 


136 


BIZAF.BE. 


*( Why .speak  thus  bitterly?"  I  said.  v  Do  you 
imagine  I  ever  thought  thus  of  you  ?  Your  face  is 
enough.  Captain  Landon:  it  is  a  loyal  face."5 

He  made  me  the  bow  of  a  nobleman. 

1 '  Thanks!  lvalue  your  good  opinion,''  he  said. 
E<  But  I  have  appeared  to  you  under  peculiar  circum- 
stances, colonel.  You  saw  me  at  Manassas  under  a 
different  name :  you  come  hither  and  hear  Miss 
Adair  address  me.  as  she  did  yonder,  in  a  manner 
not  very  complimentary.  Well,  all  this  must  appear 
rather  :  mysterious  '  to  you.  as  the  novel-writers 
say.  and  I  have  little  fondness  for  mystery." 

"Well,  I  acknowledge  that  /have/'  I  said,  smil- 
ing. 

Landon  was  silent ;  he  evidently  hesitated.  His 
dark  eyes  interrogated  my  face. 

!;I  am  heavy-hearted  to-night,"  he  said,  sudden- 
ly, in  his  deep  voice.  ' :  We  have  fought  together. 
You  ai  b  a  comrade  —  a  gentleman.  Would  you  like 
to  hear  a  rather  curious  story,  friend,  to  while  awav 
an  hour  this  evening?  " 

I  extended  my  hand  and  grasped  Landon's. 

-'Your  story  ?  That  is  a  mark  of  friendship  you 
give  me  " 

He  inclined  his  head. 

"  You  are  right,  colonel  ;  but  it  will  be  a  relief 
to  me.  To-night  thought  seems  to  crush  me.  You 
will  listen  ? T' 


w  Speak,  captain  !    You  do  me  an  honour  and  a 
pleasure." 

"Then  follow  me,  colonel.  There  is  a  spot  near 
this  house  which  I  have  nox  visited  for  years,  —  the 
scene  of  the  duel  to-morrow,  —  and  it  is  connected 
with  the  events  which  T  am  going  briefly  to  relate. 
Let  us  go  thither;  it  is  but  a  step." 

"  You  mean  the  1  Lover's  Leap '  ?  " 

"Yes." 

And,  leading  the  way,  Landon  left  the  mansion,  • 
I  followed  him  in  silence. 


r 


XXIY. 


LOVER'S  LEAP. 

We  passed  through  the  extensive  grounds,  de- 
scended a  grassy  slope,  and  my  companion  led  the 
way  into  a  dense  forest  of  pines,  which  he  threaded 
by  a  path  which  seemed  well  known  to  him. 

Passing  beneath  the  lofty  dome  of  foliage,  from 
the  summit  of  which  the  sinking  sun  was  slowly 
lifting  up  the  golden  crown,  we  continued  to  follow 
the  path ;  the  wood  opened ;  nearly  opposite  was  the 
shaggy  "Blue  Ball;"  fifty  yards  further  we  sud- 
denly emerged  upon  a  precipice,  at  the  far  base  of 
which  rolled  the  waves  of  the  Shenandoah,  and  from 
whose  summit  the  eye  swept  i\  lovely  landscape  of 
lofty  mountain  and  winding  river,  bathed  in  the 
golden  light  of  sunset. 

"  Lover's  Leap 17  was  a  rude  mass  of  rock,  which 
we  approached  by  a  narrow  path  half  covered  with 
a  carpet  of  pine  tassels.  On  the  very  brink  of  the 
precipice  grew  a  solitary  pine,  by  clasping  which 
you  could  lean  far  over  the  dizzy  verge  and  see  the 
Shenandoah  hundreds  of  feet  beneath  you.  All 
iround  rose  the  fir-clad  slopes ;  beyond  the  river 

18B 


LOVEWS  LEAP, 


139 


smiling  fields  stretched  away  to  the  base  of  the  Bi  ae 
Ridge,  whose  forests  woe  of  every  colour  of  tho 
rainbow. 

Landon  took  his  seat  upon  a  mass  of  rock  near 
the  solitary  pine,  and  passed  his  hand  over  his  fore- 
head. 

The  gesture  was  gloomy;  but  the  Partisan's  lip 
wore  the  cool,  impassive  expression  which  was  habit- 
ual with  him 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  think  sometimes,  colonel?" 
he  said. 

"What?" 

"  That  life  is  a  farce,  — existence  a  bore  at  best." 
"  Then  I  know  you  are  not  happy." 
"You  are  wrong  there  " 
"  I  am  truly  glad  to  hear  it." 
"Have  I  not  something  to  put  m*  »n  high  good 
humour  ?  '  ' 

£ '  Ah  !  you  mean  —  ' 

"  Exactly !  It  is  cnarming  to  be  understood, 
colonel.  Yes.  I  have  the  little  affair  with  Ratcliffe ; 
and,  as  I  have  been  longing  for  it  lately,  I  ought  to 
feel  the  tranquil  satisfaction  of  a  man  who  has  at- 
tained, or  is  about  to  attain,  the  object  of  his  wishes." 

Landon  uttered  a  low  laugh.  It  was  not  a  pleas- 
ant sound. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  he  continued  "  Am  I  not  fortu- 
nate ?   Men  are  charmed  when  they  have  the  >vomau 


140 


LOVERS  LEAP. 


they  love  beside  them,  —  when  they  can  say,  ;  I  love 
you.'  and  hetr  her  reply,  1  I  will  marry  you.'  Why 
should  I  not  be  gratified,  then,  when  I  have  my  dear 
enemy  beside  me?  —  can  say  to  him,  1 1  hate  you,1  and 
hear  him  reply,  £I  will  fight  you?  '  Tastes  vary  in 
this  world,  colonel.  Some  men,  no  doubt,  would 
prefer  the  interview  with  their  lady-love ;  I  prefer 
that  with  my  enemy.  Others  thrill  at,  1 1  will  marry 
you  ! '    I  am  charmed  with,  '  I  will  fight  you  ! '  " 

I  looked  curiously  at  this  man. 

"I  can  understand, — or  think  I  will, — when 
you  tell  me  your  story." 

"  Well,  you  shall  have  it,  friend.  I  am  not  a  con- 
fiding personage  generally,  but  something  moves  me 
to-night." 

And,  leaning  back  against  the  great  rock,  Lan- 
don  thus  continued  :  — 

"  I  was.  born  at  1  Bizarre,'  — the  old  house  which 
you  have  visited  to-night,  —  and  grew  to  the  age  of 
eighteen  without  ever  leaving  home.  My  father 
died  in  my  childhood,  leaving  one  other  son  and  two 
daughters,  all  younger  than  myself. 

"  Well,  at  eighteen  I  spent  a  year  at  the  Virginia 
Military  Institute,  preparing  for  West  Point,  whither 
my  father  had  expressed  a  wish  that  I  should  go 
He  fancied  that  I  had  betrayed  an  early  aptitude  for 
the  army,  and,  on  his  death-bed,  had  shaped  out  my 
future.    My  mother,  who  doted  on  her  children, 


LOVEB'S  LEAP. 


141 


*vas  bitterly  opposed  to  this  step ;  but  I  urged  my 
father's  wishes ;  set  out  joyfully  for  Lexington ; 
and  duly  became  a  cadet. 

' '  Here  commenced  my  acquaintance  with  the  per- 
son with  whom  I  am  going  to  fight  to-morrow  morn- 
ing,—  Ratcliffe.  He  was  from  East  Tennessee,  about 
the  same  age  as  myself,  and  we  soon  became  inti- 
mate, —  for  what  reason  I  have  never  been  able  to 
understand.  These  things  happen.  The  court  which 
Ratcliffe  paid  to  me,  perhaps,  explained  the  fact. 
He  had  taken  up,  I  discovered  afterwards,  the  im- 
pression that  I  was  extremely  rich,  —  the  heir  of  an 
1  old  family '  of  high  positicn,  —  and,  as  he  was  a 
person  of  humble  birth,  and  aspiring,  he  looked  to 
me,  it  seems,  to  aid  his  career. 

i'm  Well,  his  attentions  won  me.  For  the  rest,  I  was 
open  and  confiding  then.  We  became  intimate ;  he 
informed  me  that  he  had  secured  an  appointment 
and  was  going  to  West  Point :  and,  as  I  had  also 
been  appointed,  we  arranged  to  go  northward  to- 
gether. 

"  When  I  was  about  to  return  home,  Eatcliffe 
said,  carelessly,  that  he  was  half  resolved  to  go  and 
spend  the  interval  with  me,  instead  of  returning  to 
Tennessee.  I  responded  by  a  cordial  invitation ;  he 
accepted  at  once ;  and  in  a  few  days  we  were  at 
'Bizarre/ — two  youths,  full  ot  life  ml  health, 
'  home  for  the  holidays.' 


142 


LOVERS  LEAP. 


"  This  brief  recital  will  show  you,  colonel,  how 
Ratcliffe  —  a  stranger  to  this  region  and  to  our  peo- 
ple here  —  became  mixed  up  with  my  life.  I  can 
look  back  now  and  see  what  I  could  not  then ;  that 
he  had  used  a  hundred  acts  to  become  intimate  with 
me,  and  secure  this  invitation.  Cunning,  ambitious, 
obscure,  he  aimed  to  rise  from  his  low  sphere  by 
social  'connections,'  and  his  first  step  had  succeeded ; 
he  had  become  an  inmate  of  1  Bizarre, '  the  associate 
of  my  mother  and  my  sisters. 

"  They  did  not  like  him.    My  mother  was  a  per- 
\  son  of  great  simplicity  and  sweetness,  but  of  very 
high  breeding ;  and  I  soon  saw  that  something  in 
I  "Ratcliffe  displeased  her.    As  to  the  girls,  nothing 
could  induce  them  to  smile  upon  him.    I  resented 
\   this,  as  you  may  imagine ;  took  my  friend  every- 
\  where  ;  made  him  acquainted  with  the  most  agreeable 
|  young  ladies  of  the  region,  and,  among  others,  with 
Miss  Adair,  whom  you  met  at  the  Old  Chapel  that 
night. 

"  From  her  childhood,  Miss  Adair  had  been  —  to 
use  the  English  phrase  —  my  'sweetheart.7  My 
father  and  Judge  Adair  had  been  intimate  friends ; 
our  mothers  old  schoolmates,  and  very  much  devoted 
to  each  other.  Thus  to  fall  in  love  with  Miss  Ellen 
Adair  seemed  the  simplest  and  easiest  thing  in  the 
world  to  the  boy,  St.  Leger  Landon,  who  burned  to 
cement  the  affectior  cf  father  for  father,  mother  for 


LOVERS  LEAP. 


143 


mother,  by  marrying  the  young  lady,  and  thus  per- 
fect ing  the  union  of  the  two  families. 

"  When  I  went  to  Lexington  I  was  already  en- 
gaged to  the  young  lady ;  on  my  return,  I  saw,  at 
our  first  meeting,  that  her  feelings  had  undergone 
no  change;  and  before  I  left  1  Chapeldale,'  her 
father's  residence,  —  you  have  been  there,  —  our  en- 
gagement was  renewed,  and  rendered  more  binding 
than  before.  In  other  words,  Miss  Adair  had 
solemnly  plighted  me  her  troth,  - — promised  that  she 
would  marry  me,  —  and  1  returned  to  '  Bizarre  '  so 
perfectly  happy  that  I  thought  fate  itself  was  power- 
less to  overcloud  a  sky  as  radiant  as  my  future." 

A  bitter  smile  came  to  Landon's  lips. 

"  Such  is  youth,"  he  went  on.  "  It  believes  every- 
thing, and  takes  no  account  of  that  terrible  '  element 
of  failure,'  which  mingles  with  every  human  under- 
t  king.  If  any  one  had  told  me  then  that  this 
beautiful  girl,  with  the  truthful  eyes  and  the  smiling 
lips,  would  break  my  heart  (excuse  that  cant, 
colonel,  it  is  expressive) ;  that  she  would  shipwreck 
me  for  a  fancy,  a  chimera,  without  listening  to  my 
defence,  I  would  have  laughed,  and  considered  the 
joke  excellent !  " 

Landon's  countenance,  as  he  uttered  these  words, 
was  inexpressibly  cynical  and  bitter.  For  a  man  to 
smile  as  the  young  Partisan  smiled,  it  was  necessary 
to  have  passed  through  much  and  great  suffering. 


144 


LOVERS  LEAP. 


That  suffering  he  had  evidently  endured,  it  was 
caused  by  a  woman,  and  I  listened  with  profound  in- 
terest and  attention  to  the  deep  voice  which  told  me 
everything. 

Landon  paused  for  an  instant ;  a  grim  contraction 
of  the  brows  followed ;  a  shadow  seemed  to  pass 
across  his  forehead ;  but  he  continued  his  narrative 
in  a  voice  which  irdicated  no  emotion  of  any  de- 
scription whatever. 


XXY. 


POISON. 

si  I  TOOK  Jttatcliffe,  as  I  have  informed  you,  to  visit 
the  family  at  '  Chapeldale,'  and,  having  thus  been  in- 
troduced, he  went  thither  frequently  afterwards,  not 
seldom  by  himself.  I  did  not  dream  of  his  becoming 
my  rival.  My  rival  ?  The  thing  was  impossible  ! 
Had  I  iio'j  informed  him  of  my  engagement ;  grown 
extravagant,  as  young  men  will,  over  my  love,  my 
adoration,  my  infatuation  for  Miss  Adair?  How 
was  it  possible  for  a  gentleman  to  thmk  of  wooing 
his  friend's  affiancee  ?  "Weli,  I  swear  to  you,  the 
thought  never  entered  my  head,  until  one  morning 
Miss  Adai?  quietly  said  :  — 

i:  1  You  have  a  singular  friend. ' 

"  1  Singular?'  I  said. 

"  'Yes,'  was  her  reply.  'He  addressed  me  yes- 
terday j  you  ought  to  know  it.' 

"  She  looked  frightened,  as  she  glanced  at  my 
face. 

"  '  Good  heavens !  how  pale  you  are !  J  she  said; 
*  you  are  angry  ?  ' 

10  14* 


146 


POISON. 


"  'No,'  I  replied,  and  ten  minutes  afterwards  I 
left  her. 

"  I  went  back  at  a  gallop  to  £  Bizarre,*  hastened  tc 
RatclifiVs  room,  entered,  and  charged  him  with  his 
perfidy.  His  reply  was  a  good-humoared  laugh,  and 
the  words  :  — 

"  '  Why,  old  fellow,  can't  you  allow  an  inveterate 
flirt  like  myself  to  have  some  fun  without  wanting 
to  cut  my  throat  for  it  ?  Do  you  think  I  for  a  mo- 
ment imagined  I  could  cut  you  out  with  Miss  Ellen  ? 
that  I  was  in  earnest  ?  You  are  too  sensitive,  old 
fellow,  too  distrustful.'  And  for  ten  minutes  he 
poured  out  his  smiling  blandishments  and  denials ; 
laughing,  and  finally  putting  me  in  a  good  humour 
again. 

"'Well,  Ratcliffe,'  I  said,  'I  will  say  no  mon 
about  this,  but  on  one  condition,  —  a  condition  which 
I  exact.' 

"  '  What  is  that?  '  he  said,  smiling. 
"  '  That  you  will  never  utter  another  word  of  that 
description  to  Miss  Adair  as  long  as  you  live.' 
"  '  And  if  I  decline,'  he  said,  laughing. 
"  Those  words  fired  me. 

"  '  Try  it,'  I  said,  '  and  by  Heaven,  I  will  have  your 
blood  !  ' 

"  He  turned  white  as  I  spoke,  and  a  flash  of  anger 
darted  from  his  eye.  A  moment  afterwards  he 
forced  a  laugh,  and  said :  — 


POISON. 


147 


:i<All  right,  old  fellow;  but  you  don't  mean  to 
deny  me  the  privilege  of  calling  on  Miss  Ellen  9  ' 

" 1  Certainly  not,'  I  replied,  already  growing 
ashamed  of  uttering  such  harsh  words  to  a  guest  ; 
'  but  I  have  your  promise,  you  understand  ?  ' 

"  '  All  right,'  he  repeated,  laughing  as  before; 
and  the  interview  terminated. 

"  Going  to  my  room,"  continued  Landon,  "I 
sat  down  and  reflected.  Had  I  not  been  harsh  and 
uncharitable  toward  Ratcliffe  ?  The  young  lady 
doubtless  exaggerated  his  attentions,  misunderstood 
mere  'gallantry,'  and  did  not  know  that,  by  many 
of  her  sex,  such  avowals  as  Ratcliffe  had  made 
were  regarded  simply  as  an  amusing  pastime,  mean- 
ing little.  Thus  I  gradually  regained  my  equanim- 
ity, and  when  I  again  saw  Miss  Adair,  informed 
her,  with  a  smile,  that  I  doubted  extremely  whether 
Ratcliffe  was  as  much  in  love  with  her  as  she  im- 
agined. It  was  a  brilliant  jest,  you  see ;  but  I  do 
not  think  the  young  lady  relished  it  very  much. 
She  replied  that  her  imagination  had  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  matter.  And  as  this  incident  occurred 
just  as  Ratcliffe  and  myself  were  about  to  set  off  for 
West  Point,  I  had  the  misery  of  parting  with  the 
young  lady  in  a  frame  of  mind  far  less  agreeable 
than  I  desired.  Have  you  ever  been  what  is  called 
1  in  love,'  friend  ?  If  so,  I  need  not  tell  you  that  to 
leave  the  women  you  love  with  no  smile  upon  her 


148  POISON". 

lips,  no  light  in  her  eyes,  is  not  agreeable.  It  was 
thus  I  left  her,  to  go  to  West  Point.  Something 
like  a  cloud  seemed  to  have  swept  across  the  sky 
overshadowing  the  landscape.  In  the  sequel,  as  you 
will  perceive,  events  were  to  occur  which  blackened 
the  whole  horizon  of  my  life. 

"  I  now  approach  the  main  point  of  my  narrative. 
Many  things  remain  a  mystery  still  to  me,  but  sub- 
sequent information  revealed  to  me  an  amount  of 
diablerie  on  the  part  of  my  dear  friend  RatcliiFe, 
which  will  be  sufficient  to  give  interest  to  my  story. 
Many  things  I  know  ;  what  I  do  not  know,  I  suspect. 
You  shall  judge  if  I  have  cause  to  love  this  man. 

"  To  relate  all  in  its  order.  I  went  to  West 
Point,  leaving  my  mother,  my  sisters,  and  my 
younger  brother  in  perfect  health.  Six  months 
afterwards  the  whole  family  were  attacked  with 
pneumonia;  my  brother  and  both  my  sisters  died, 
and  my  mother  was  brought  to  the  brink  of  the 
grave.  I  hastened  back  at  the  first  intelligence  of 
their  illness,  only  in  time  to  follow  the  funeral  cortege 
of  the  last  of  my  sisters  to  the  Old  Chapel ;  then  for 
a  month  I  watched,  breathless,  the  progress  of 
my  mother's  malady. 

"Well,  she  rallied  at  length.  I  had  the  inex- 
pressible happiness  of  seeing  the  colour  return  to  her 
cheeks.  Her  constitution  was  evidently  broken,  but 
at  least  she  was  spared  to  me  !    From  that  moment 


poisoisr. 


149 


she  became  a  thousand  times  dearer  to  me ;  ana  the 
love  which  she  gave  me  in  return  even  exceeded  my 
own  for  her. 

"Alas  !  "  said  Landon,  with  flushed  cheeks,  and 
sighing  wearily,  i '  men  do  not  know  the  happiness 
of  having  a  mother  until  she  is  dead !  Then  they 
bitterly  repent  all  their  waywardness,  their  neglect, 
their  absence  without  reason.  They  would  give  all 
they  possess  to  feel  the  pressure  of  the  thin  hand  on 
their  heated  brows  again,  to  hear  the  dear  mother's 
voice,  and  see  the  old,  fond,  caressing  smile  !  " 

The  man's  heart  throbbed,  and  his  lips  trembled 
as  he  spoke.  This  memory  of  his  mother  had  flushed 
his  cheeks  as  he  gazed  at  her  portrait,  and  agitated 
him  again  as  he  now  spoke  of  her.  It  seemed  the 
sole  tie  which  still  bound  him  to  his  species,  and 
kept  the  heart  of  this  iceberg  from  freezing. 

"I  loved  my  mother,"  he  groaned,  with  some- 
thing like  a  fiery  tear  in  the  haughty  eyes.  "  No 
man  ever  loved  mother  more,  and  that  wretch  yon- 
der was  the  cause  of  her  death  !  5  7 

His  face  grew  hard  again  as  he  referred  to  Rat- 
cliffe.  In  his  eye  was  the  old,  grim,  pitiless  look  ; 
the  glance  of  the  man  whose  purpose  is  not  to  be 
shaken. 

"  Listen,  friend,"  he  went  on  coolly,  "  and  I  will 
tell  you  how  Ratcliffe  thus  darkened  my  whole  life. 
The  fact  was  long  a  mystery  to  me  ;  it  is  only  re- 


150 


poison: 


cently  that  I  have  discovered  the  deep  debt  I  gws 
him }  and  I  hope  to  repay  him  to  the  last  farthing. 
Some  men's  memories  are  short,  and  lose  every- 
thing;  mine  is  long,  and  loses  nothing. 

' '  To  narrate.  I  returned  to  W est  Point  after  the 
death  of  my  brother  and  sisters,  and  the  illness  of 
my  mother,  almost  broken  down  in  spirits.  One 
thing  alone  consoled  me, —  the  fond  and  faithful  affec- 
tion of  the  young  girl  to  whom  I  had  given  my 
whole  heart.  Her  love  had  never  failed  me  ;  seemed 
to  deepen  rather,  as  she  saw  how  much  I  suffered ; 
and  the  recollection  of  the  tenderness  which  she  ex- 
hibited for  me  at  that  time  has  alone  preserved  me 
from  the  darkest  cynicism,  the  intensest  scorn  and 
hatred  for  her  whole  sex.  When  I  parted  with  her, 
there  was  no  cloud  upon  the  pure  and  truthful  brow ; 
in  her  heart  there  was  nothing  but  love  for  me.  It 
was  arranged  that  we  were  to  be  married  as  soon  as 
I  attained  my  majority  ;  and  with  this  to  console  me 
and  light  up  my  poor  weary  life,  I  returned  to  finish 
my  course  at  West  Point. 

"  I  remained  there  until  the  autumn  of  1860. 
Then  the  storm  began  to  mutter,  and  it  was  plain 
that  the  Republicans  would  attempt  to  coerce  the 
South  if  she  dared  to  secede  from  the  Union.  Would 
the  Southern  States  do  so?  South  Carolina —  the 
brave,  the  chivalrous  South  Carolina  —  first  drew 
the  sword  and  threw  away  the  scabbard  Virginia 


POISON. 


151 


was  plainly  going  to  follow.  As  to  her  action  1 
never  doubted ;  as  to  my  own  course.  I  did  not  hesi- 
tate. I  never  yet  knew  the  time  when  the  flap;  of 
Virginia  was  not  my  flag  before  all  others ;  when  i 
did  not  consider  myself  bound  to  obey  the  order  of 
the  Governor  of  Virginia  before  that  of  the  President 
of  the  United  States  ;  when  I  did  not  say  to  myself, 
'  I  am  a  citizen  first  and  foremost  of  the  sovereign  na- 
tion of  Virginia,  and  only  afterwards  a  sort  of  citizen 
of  the  political  federation  called  the  United  States.' 

"  But  I  weary  you.  To  return  :  I  came  back  to 
Virginia  in  the  autumn  of  1S60,  to  offer  her  my 
sword;  and  I  never  saw  Ratcliffe  again  until  the 
other  day.  He  declared  his  intention  of  remaining 
at  the  North,  and  1  taking  no  part  in  the  rebellion,' 
—  and  this  alone  would  have  broken  our  connection. 
We  had  already  grown  cold,  however,  and  even 
quarrelled  on  other  grounds,  —  the  result  simply  of 
the  man's  utter  depravity  and  want  of  principle.  I 
have  never  set  myself  up  as  an  example  to  anybody, 
colonel,  and  have  never  had  the  pretension  to  make 
broad  my  phylacteries,  and  thank  God  I  am  not  as 
yonder  sinner.  On  the  contrary,  I  lived  freely,  — 
drank,  played  ca,rds,  and  was  far  from  a  model. 
But  Ratcliffe  was  a  thousand  times  worse,  and  abso- 
lutely revolted  me.  Drunkenness,  insane  gambling, 
debauchery  of  every  description,  were  habitual  with 
him.    To  this  he  added  a  laxity  in  money  matters, 


152 


POisoy 


and  a  facility  in  breaking  his  word,  which  gradually 
alienated  ine  from  him,  and  ended  by  terminating  our 
intimacy. 

"  Then,  as  I  have  since  discovered,  he  began  to 
hate  me,  and  had  a  double  reason  to  ruin  me  if  ho 
could.  Do  you  ask  the  meaning  of  the  word  '  dou- 
ble '  ?  My  reply  is  that  he  was  crazily  in  love  with 
Miss  Adair,  —  a  fact  which  I  have  discovered,  like 
the  rest,  only  recently. 

"This,  then,  was  the  'situation,'  a3  we  say  in 
the  army.  I  was  engaged  to  Miss  Adair.  Rat- 
clifFe  loved  her,  and  hated  me.  Obviously,  to  ruin 
me  would  be  to  gratify  at  once  his  love  and  his  ven- 
geance.   And  he  nearly  accomplished  his  object. 

i  1 1  come  now  to  the  most  curious  portion  of  my 
story,  —  Ratcliffe's  mode  of  proceeding  in  undermin- 
ing my  character  and  good  name  in  an  entire  com- 
munity. His  course  was  one  full  of  strange  cunning. 
By  letters,  both  anonymous  and  over  his  signature, 
he  disseminated  the  most  frightful  calumnies  in  ref- 
erence to  me.  I  have  seen  some  of  these  letters,  and 
it  is  impossible  to  convey  to  you  any  idea  of  the  dia- 
bolical ingenuity  of  the  writer.  I  was  represented 
as  a  monster.  My  small  vices  were  magnified  into 
gigantic  crimes ;  my  chance  games  at  cards  into  wild 
gambling ;  my  occasional  wine-drinking  into  brutal 
drunkenness.  I  was  charged  with  such  other  vices 
as  degrade  and  brutalize  young  men,  —  with  uttei 


POISON. 


153 


falsehood,  for  I  was  innocent;  and  the  whale  por- 
trait thus  drawn  was  so  repulsive  and  hateful,  that 
those  who  did  not  know  me  must  have  shrunk  in 
horror  and  disgust  from  the  moral  monster  thus  pre- 
sented to  their  view. 

,  "  When  I  returned  to  the  Valley  in  1860,  Eat- 
cliffe  had  accomplished  his  object,  or  a  portion  of  it. 
My  best  friends  turned  away  from  or  looked  coldly 
at  me.  Does  that  seem  fanciful,  colonel  ?  Bah  ! 
nothing  that  is  mean  is  fanciful  in  human  nature ! 
Do  you  think  that  the  world  is  not  pleased  when  you 
stumble?  They  are  standing  erect  and  are  better 
than  you  !  Do  you  think  that  your  '  friends  '  be- 
lieve with  difficulty  discreditable  reports  about  you  ? 
Undeceive  yourself;  they  hasten  to  believe  them, 
and  I  assufe  you  they  lose  no  time  in  disseminating 
them,  —  to  communicate  1  bad  news  '  is  so  delightful ! 
'No  news  is  good  news,'  the  proverb  says, — that 
is,  people  never  take  the  trouble  to  communicate 
what  will  make  you  happy ;  but  let  them  only  have 
some  bad  news  that  will  make  you  miserable,  —  you 
shall  know  that,  if  they  have  to  arouse  vou  at  mid- 
night ! 

"  Well,  many  persons  had  shocking  news  to  tell 
of  the  reprobate  St  Leger  Landon,  the  drunkard, 
the  debauchee  the  unprincipled  blackguard !  It 
was  all  communicated  uncbr  the  breath,  in  whispers, 
—  in  the  '  giggle-gabble  '  tone,  —  and  the  whole  ail 


154 


POISON. 


was  poisoned.  At  tea-drinkings,  church,  court, 
everywhere,  people  shook  their  heads,  groaned,  la- 
mented the  shocking  conduct  of  the  last  of  the  Lao- 
dons  —  and  pitied  my  poor  mother. 

"  My  mother  !  there  was  where  the  arrow  struck. 
Of  Miss  Adair  I  will  speak  presently ;  but  first  of 
\ay  mother.  The  kind  friends  whom  I  have  men- 
tioned did  not  fail  to  put  her  in  possession  of  the  re- 
ports in  relation  to  me ;  they  would  not  have  missed 
the  luxury  of  seeing  her  writhe,  and  of  witnessing 
her  agony.  They  came  to  '  Bizarre ;  '  had  no  pity 
for  her  pale  face  and  trembling  nerves ;  struck  her 
cruelly,  pitilessly,  as  women  can  only  strike  women, 
and  ended  by  prostrating  her  upon  a  bed  of  ill. 
ness.  The  implacable  fury  of  the  eld  gossips  had 
pierced  the  tender  heart  to  its  core,  and  she  was 
overwhelmed.  Since  I,  her  only  child,  her  stay  and 
comfort,  had  become  thus  depraved,  there  was  no 
longer  anything  in  life  worth  living  for ;  existence 
was  a  burden. 

"  Can  you  realize  from  these  cold,  colourless  words, 
the  spectacle  which  greeted  me  upon  my  return  ?  It 
was  that  of  my  mother,  stretched  upon  the  couch  from 
which  she  was  ne  7er  more  to  rise,  writhing  under  the 
poisonous  stings  of  those  female  tongues, — believing 
that  her  only  boy,  her  all,  was  worse  than  dead  to 
Ser  !  That  was  what  greeted  me  as  I  came  back  to 
1  Bizarre'  with  open  arms  to  kiss  my  dear  mother  ' 


15a 


"Three  months  afterwards  she  was  dead.  Th« 
ahock  to  her  system  from  the  loss  of  her  children, 
and  all  this  painful  emotion  in  addition,  had  brought 
on  a  return  of  her  malady.  This  second  attack  she 
had  not  been  able  to  withstand.  I  followed  her  to 
the  Old  Chapel  graveyard,  as  I  had  followed  wg 
brother  and  my  mUnS} 


HAMELESS. 


With  compressed  lips  Landon  resumed  his  narra- 
tive. 

"  I  had  already  parted  tbraver  with  Miss  Adair. 
That  abrupt  announcement  probably  surprises  you; 
and  I  will  briefly  relate  the  particulars  of  this 
somewhat  curious  occurrence.  Hp  to  the  latter 
months  of  my  stay  at  West  Point,  no  change  had 
taken  place  in  my  relations  with  the  young  lady. 
Our  correspondence  had  continued  uninterrupted. 
Her  letters  were  all  that  I  could  wish,  and  when  the 
intelligence  of  my  brother's  and  sisters'  illness 
brought  me  back  to  'Bizarre,5  I  had  found  in  her 
love,  as  I  have  said,  my  greatest  comfort.  So  much 
for  my  affair  up  to  the  last  few  months  of  my 
absence. 

"Then  everything  changed.  In  her  letters  I 
began  to  discern  that  indefinable  something  which 
cannot  be  described,  but  which  indicates  a  change  of 
feeling,  as  the  atmosphere  indicates  an  approaching 
storm.  I  could  not  define  this ;  it  eluded  my  vigi- 
lance when  I  attempted  to  touch  it;  but  it  was 


NAMELESS. 


157 


there !  The  love  was  all  gone  out  of  the  heart 
behind  the  hand  that  wrote !  The  next  letter  I 
received  was  positively  chilling.  I  wrote,  demand- 
ing an  explanation.  N<w  came  I  wrote  again. 
The  response  was  a  sheet  of  paper  enveloping  the 
young  lady's  engagement  ling.  Upon  the  sheet 
was  written  :  — 

"  'Our  correspondence  and  acquaintance  end  here 
and  now.  It  will  be  useless  to  attempt  a  renewal  of 
either.' 

"I  remember  the  words  perfectly.  There  are 
certain  things  written  or  uttered  in  this  world  which 
burn  their  impress  upon  the  heart  and  memory,  and 
are  ineffaceable.  Spoken,  you  hear  them  long  years 
afterward.  Written,  you  see,  when  a  quarter  of  a 
century  has  passed,  the  very  page  which  contained 
them,  and  across  wbicb  they  seemed  dashed  in 
flame ! 

" 1  Our  correspondence  and  acquaintance  end 
here  and  now  1 1 

"  Did  I  hold  a  pen  m  my  hand,  with  a  sheet  of 
paper  before  me,  I  could  trace  with  perfect  accuracy 
the  shape  of  every  letter  in  that  sentence  as  she 
traced  them  !  I  recall  the  appearance  of  the 
words,  as  a  man  recalls  the  page  that  he  rend  when 
labouring  under  some  frightful  grief. 

"What  made  her  write  thus  to  me?  Why  did 
this  honest  and  true  heart  strike  my  heart  so  piti- 


158 


NAMELESS. 


lessly,  and  overthrow  in  an  instant  the  ^bole  fabsio 
which  I  had  been  building  in  the  future?  Why 
did  Ellen  Adair  thus  insult,  outrage,  ruin  the  man 
x^rho  loved  her  more  than  he  loved  his  own  life? 
That  is  still  a  mystery  to  me.  Was  it  the  result  of 
Ratcliffe's  cowardly  calumnies?  It  is  hard  to  be- 
lieve so,  and  yet  what  could  have  come  between  us 
but  that  ?  What  other  arts  did  he  use  ?  What 
means  did  he  employ  ?  This  is  still  the  mystery  of 
mysteries  to  me,  and  I  can  only  attribute  the  young 
lady's  action  to  the  discreditable  reports  in  regard  to 
me,  since  she  denied  me  all  opportunity  of  defend- 
ing myself. 

"This  surprises  you;  and  it  is  more  than  sur- 
prising, —  it  is  incredible.  Truth  is  generally  incred- 
ible. But  I  will  narrate  the  plain  facts,  without 
comment :  — 

"  Well,  I  raged  when  I  read  that  letter,  and  for 
days  was  the  victim  of  the  cruellest  despair.  What 
should  I  do?  Write  again?  My  pride  revolted 
from  thus  lowering  myself  and  coming  back,  like  a 
whipped  hound,  to  receive  another  cut  of  the  lash ! 
Friend,  my  theory  in  this  world  is,  that  an  honourable 
gentleman  gives  much  when  he  gives  his  whole  heart ; 
that  a  young  lady  owes  him  something  in  return, — 
some  consideration;  that  she  does  wrong  in  acting 
as  though  all  the  giving  were  upon  her  side  alone, 
and  his  love  a  trifling  affair  in  comparison  with  her 


XAMELESS. 


159 


caprice  !  I  loved  this  young  lady  ;  but  thit  did  not 
give  her  the  right  to  outrage  me  thus  wantonly,  — to 
Btrike  me  cruelly,  mercilessly,  with  insult,  to  the 
very  heart.  Well,  I  swore  that  I  would  not  write  a 
line  in  reply,  —  and  I  did  not. 

"But  I  writhed  terribly.  I  was  not  a  philoso- 
pher, only  a  young  man  very  much  in  love,  and  the 
steel  pierced  me  to  the  heart.  I  determined  to  wait 
until  I  saw  Miss  Adair  in  person,  and  I  saw  her 
when  I  came  to  Virginia  in  the  autumn  of  1860 
Shall  I  describe  my  reception,  or  rather  how  I  was 
not  even  received?  No  sooner  had  I  arrived  at 
f  Bizarre  '  and  embraced  my  mother,  than  I  ordered 
my  horse,  set  out  at  full  speed,  passed  through  Mill- 
wood without  drawing  rein,  and  soon  found  myself 
at  Chapeldale. 

"  'Judge  Adair  was  not  at  home,'  a  servant  in- 
formed me,  as  I  threw  myself  from  my  horse,  and 
hastened  up  the  steps  of  the  mansion.  Judge 
Adair?  I  did  not  wish  to  see  Judge  Adair,  I 
responded;  where  was  Miss  Adair?  The  servant 
looked  confused.  He  would  go  and  inquire,  he 
said.  He  went,  remained  away  a  few  minutes,  and 
returning,  said,  1  Miss  Ellen  begged  to  be  excused, 
— she  had  a  headache.'  I  remember  staring  vacant- 
ly in  the  face  of  the  old  gray-haired  servant,  who 
knew  and  loved  me ;  his  agitation  and  confusion  were 
greater  than  my  own  even.    Then  I  flushed  to  the 


160 


NAMELESS. 


temples,  wheeled  abruptly,  aad  went  away  furious, 
resolved  that  I  would  never  return. 

"I  returned  on  the  next  day.  Cold  aid  stern, 
expecting  my  fate,  and  looking  it  in  the  face,  I 
again  knocked  at  the  door.  The  same  old  gray-haired 
servant  appeared,  and  I  again  asked  for  the  young 
lady.  This  time  he  had  not  to  leave  me  in  order  U 
go  and  receive  Miss  Adair's  response  to  my  sum- 
mons. With  a  countenance  which  indicated  the 
deepest  respect  and  sympathy,  the  old  servant  deliv- 
ered the  message  with  which  he  had  been  intrusted. 
My  visit  had  thus  been  foreseen,  and  Miss  Adair 
evidently  intended  that  it  should  be  the  last.  This 
time  there  was  no  allusion  made  to  a  headache. 
Miss  Adair's  response  in  advance,  to  my  mjrning 
call,  was  simply  to  the  effect  that  it  was  not  her 
intention  to  come  downstairs  and  see  Mr.  St.  Leger 
Landon. 

"Well,  that  ended  everything,  you  sec.  I  lis- 
tened to  the  words  quietly,  left  the  mansion,  and, 
mounting  my  horse,  returned  to  1  Bizarre,'  swearing 
in  my  heart  that  I  would  never  again  darken  the 
doors  of  a  house  in  which  I  had  been  wantonly  out- 
raged ;  and  this  time  I  have  kept  my  oath.  From 
that  time  to  the  other  day,  or  night  rather,  at  the 
Chapel,  I  have  never  even  seen  the  young  lady,  nor 
do  I  ever  intend  again  to  see  her  if  I  can  avoid  it. 

"Enough  of  that;  let  me  finish  my  sorrowful 


NAMELESS. 


161 


history,  colonel.  This  final  rupture  with  Miss  Adaii 
took  place  as  soon  as  I  reached  Virginia ;  but  a  fe\? 
weeks  afterwards  events  occurred  at  L  Bizarre '  which 
made  me  lose  sight  of  all  else.  My  mother's  illness, 
pneumonia,  combined  with  a  nervous  disorder,  pro- 
duced by  these  calumnies  which  I  have  mentioned, 
grew  rapidly  more  threatening.  A  month  afterwards 
she  was  evidently  sinking ;  and  one  night,  when  she 
placed  her  feeble  arms  around  me,  I  felt  her  head 
fall  upon  my  bosom,  —  she  was  dead  !  " 

Landon  uttered  a  hoarse  sob  as  he  spoke,  and 
iurned  away.  Something  in  my  own  throat  seemed 
choking  me.  To  witness  the  emotion  of  this  man  of 
marble  was  a  terrible  spectacle. 

"  You  see  they  had  killed  her  !  "  he  muttered  in 
a  low,  deep  voice;  "they  had  told  her  I  was  a 
wretch,  and  broken  her  heart.  True,  a  word  from 
me  had  been  sufficient  to  braDd  that  lie,  and  undo 
the  whole  devilish  plot  against  me.  The  mother's 
heart  was  soft,  if  the  heart  of  my  betrothed  was 
hard ;  but  the  work  was  done,  and  my  poor,  fond 
mother  had  no  more  strength  even  to  be  happy  ! 
She  died  in  my  arms,  with  her  head  upon  my  bosom, 
and  sleeps  yonder  in  the  Old  Chapel,  where  I  hope 
some  day  to  lie  beside  her. 

"  Well,  such  were  the  events  of  the  fall  and  win- 
ter of  1860,  colonel.  I  was  alone  at  1  Bizarre,'  a 
mere  wreck,  no  longer  like  myself.  A  double  chord 
11 


162 


NAMELESS. 


had  snapped  in  my  breast,  and  I  was  desperate 
First  had  come  the  terrible  result  of  my  affair  with 
Miss  Adair :  the  woman  I  loved  had  thrown  me  away 
like  a  worthless  glove,  split  and  useless;  and,  dead 
as  she  was  to  me,  attempt  as  I  might  to  forget  her, 
every  object  reminded  me  of  her;  everything  re- 
called her.  At  '  Bizarre,'  where  she  had  been  often, 
for  she  was  a  great  favourite  with  my  mother,  there 
was  scarce  a  piece  of  furniture,  a  book,  a  wicker 
chair  on  the  lawn,  which  I  did  not  associate  with 
her.  Over  every  walk  we  had  strolled  together, 
over  every  country  road  we  had  ridden,  and  here,  at 
Lover's  Leap,  we  had  twenty  times  conversed. 
Here,  sitting  on  this  very  rock,  she  looked  at  me  as 
women  only  look  at  the  men  they  love;  here  her 
delicious  voice  had  rung  clearly  in  the  sunset,  and 
we  had  passed  long  hours,  with  the  pines  whispering 
above,  the  river  murmuring  beneath,  watching  the 
clouds  which  floated  over  us,  all  gold  in  the  light  of 
sunset.  I  loved  that  woman  !  God  help  me,  but  I 
believe  I  love  her  still !  " 

Landon  paused,  his  cheeks  glowing,  his  eyes 
flashing. 

"  Good !  "  he  said  in  a  moment,  with  his  sardonic 
smile.  "  I  am  growing  poetical,  colonel.  I  am  talk- 
ing about  eyes  and  sighs ;  let  us  leave  all  that  flum- 
mery, and  come  back  to  events.  My  narrative  wUJ 
be  ended  very  soon  now. 


NAMELESS. 


16a 


"  The  last  blow,  as  I  said,  was  my  mother's  death, 
and  I  dare  not  attempt  to  describe  the  void  left  by 
that  I  can  tell  you  how  I  missed  everywhere  the 
presence  of  the  woman  I  loved ;  but  I  cannot  speak 
of  my  feelings  when  I  looked  round  the  old  deserted 
house  of  i  Bizarre,'  and  heard  a  voice  say,  'Your 
mother  is  gone  !  '  You  can  replace  your  betrothed, 
even  your  wife, —  that  happens,  though  I  think  it 
would  not  to  me, —  but  there  is  something  which 
you  cannot  replace,  - —  the  smile  of  the  face  which 
bent  over  you  when  you  were  a  helpless  babe  in 
arms.  God  gives  that  once,  and  only  once.  And 
he  had  taken  it  from  me  forever. 

"  Well,  in  the  spring  of  1861,  things  had  come 
to  a  bad  pass  with  me.  My  mother  was  dead ;  the 
woman  I  loved  had  thrown  me  away ;  I  was  alone,  — 
seemed  even  to  have  no  friends.  On  all  sides  I  saw 
cold  looks,  heard  cold  voices,  and  touched  cold 
hands.  I  cared  little  ;  grief  had  stunned  me ;  but 
the  strange  fact  was  that  I  could  not  discover  the 
origin  of  this  coldness,  or  solve  the  mystery. 
Everybody  avoided  me ;  I  was  an  outlaw,  apparent- 
ly, and  at  last  the  pride  and  disdain  of  my  charac- 
ter rose  up  and  spurred  me  to  a  wild  rage.  I  tried 
to  find  some  one  to  insult  and  fight ;  but,  alas  !  I  had 
not  even  that  consolation.  I  could  find  no  enemy  > 
only  people  who  bowed  coldly ;  and  I  went  back  to 
4  Bizarre,'  torn  by  wrath,  misery,  and  despair.  Thai 


164 


NAMELESS. 


dishonour  should  be  imputed  to  a  descendant  of  the 
Landons  !  That  my  father's  son  should  be  supposed 
even  to  have  soiled  his  noble  name  !  The  thought 
was  bitter,  almost  intolerable. 

' '  I  writhed  under  it ;  then  the  war  broke  out. 
I  joined  the  army;  and  you  now  know,  colonel, 
why  I  took  my  mother's  name  of  St.  Leger,  under 
which  you  first  met  me.  To  that  name,  at  least,  I 
was  entitled. 

"The  rest  of  my  story  need  not  detain  you.  I 
had  just  received  my  commission  of  captain  of  cav- 
alry, a  year  ago,  when  we  rode  together  through 
the  barricade  near  Manassas.  Yon  will  ask  what 
had  become  of  Ratcliffe.  The  response  is  easy. 
Ho  had  always  been  northern  in  his  sentiments; 
remained  at  West  Point  and  graduated ;  joined  the 
enemy,  and  was  sent  to  serve  in  Missouri,  where  I 
heard  he  was  killed  in  1862. 

"  To  end  my  narrative.  Tired  of  the  regular 
service,  I  resigned  my  commission  last  spring; 
raised  a  company  of  Partisans,  and  came  to  oper- 
ate against  Sheridan  in  the  Valley  here.  With  my 
former  friends  I  have  had  nothing  to  do;  from  the 
first  I  held  myself  aloof  from  them ;  but  one  of  them 
stopped  me  one  day,  and  kindly  volunteered  at  the 
eleventh  hour  to  state  a  few  facts  for  my  informa- 
tion. Then  I  knew,  for  the  first  time,  the  extent 
of  my  obligations  to  Ratcliffe.    My  informant  not 


NAMELESS. 


165 


only  laid  bare  the  plot  against  me,  but  exhibited  two 
or  three  letters  in  Ratcliffe's  handwriting,  which,  if 
believed,  were  sufficient  to  ruin  me  a  hundred  times 
in  the  estimation  of  virtuous  people.  That  was  a 
month  or  two  ago.  You  were  present  at  the  skir- 
mish yonder  when  I  found  that  Ratcliffe  was  not 
dead:  crossed  sabres  with  him;  and  came  near  set- 
tling our  account  with  him  then  and  there.  What 
has  followed  you  know.  At  last  my  foe  is  in  my 
power ;  he  shall  fight  me  fairly,  man  to  man,  hi  hon- 
ourable combat ;  but  before  that  combat  takes  place, 
I  shall  have  a  private  interview  with  him,  —  an  in- 
terview in  which  many  things  will  be  discussed,  I 
promise  you. 

"  Enough,  colonel,"  said  Landon ;  "  let  us  return ; 
I  am  anxious  to  look  after  my  dear  guest.  I  took 
his  parole  with  repugnance,  and  under  compulsion ; 
I  distrust  him.  Were  he  to  break  it,  I  would  miss 
one  of  the  few  enjoyments  that  I  promise  myself  in 
life,  —  that  of  standing  face  to  face  with  him,  and 
sending  a  bullet  or  a  sword's  point  through  the 
cowardly  heart  that  has  worked  my  misery !  " 

Suddenly  rapid  hoof-strokes  resounded  from  the 
pines  in  the  direction  of  the  mansion ;  and  one  of  the 
Rangers  appeared,  approaching  at  full  speed. 

"  What  is  it?  "  said  Landon,  quickly. 

"  The  Yankee  captain  has  escaped  ! '  exclaimed 
the  man. 


166 


NAMELESS. 


"  Escaped ! " 

And  Landon  rose  erect  with  one  bound,  his  eyea 
flaming. 

"Yes,  captain.  You  know  he  was  paroled. 
W ell,  he  walked  out  coolly  to  the  woods,  mounted  a 
horse,  and  was  half  a  mile  off  before  we  knew  it.  A 
dozen  of  us  chased  him,  but  he  got  off." 

Landon's  teeth  were  set  together ;  his  brows  con- 
tracted. 

"And  the  lieutenant?"  he  said;  "he  was  also 
paroled. " 

"  He  is  all  right,  captain.    He  says  the  Yankee 
captain  is  a  liar  and  a  coward." 
Landon's  lip  curled  bitterly. 
"  I  could  have  told  him  that,"  he  muttered. 
And,  turning  to  me :  — 

"  Come,  colonel,"  he  said,  "  let  us  go  back.  The 
indulgence  of  this  fit  of  egotism  has  cost  me  dear !  " 


xxvn. 


"  A  TRUMP." 

In  five  minutes  we  were  again  at    Bizarre. 99 

On  the  porch  of  the  mansion  stood  Lieutenant 
Ralph  A.rden,  his  brow  gloomy,  his  arms  folded,  and 
I  have  never  seen  an  expression  of  deeper  shame  and 
mortification  upon  human  countenance. 

"  Place  me  under  guard,  Captain  Landon ! "  he 
said,  abruptly,  as  we  approached.  "  That  man  has 
dishonoured  himself —  his  uniform  —  me  —  every 
oflicer  in  the  Federal  army  !  You  paroled  him  to 
meet  you  in  honourable  combat ;  he  has  sneaked  oif 
like  a  coward .  and  I  was  his  second  !  He  has 
broken  his  parole  like  a  vulgar  blackguard  !  i,  too, 
am  paroled ;  I  may  break  mine  !  I  surrender  that 
parole  —  now  —  instantly  !  " 

Landon  looked  keenly  <*t  the  young  officer. 

"  You  are  Harry  Arden's  brother?  51  he  said. 

"  I  am/' 

M  That  is  enough.  Mount  your  horse  and  report 
to  General  Early  at  Winchester." 

An  obstinate  shake  of  the  head  was  the  young 
officer's  reply. 

167 


168 


A  THUMP. 


"You  refuse?" 
"I  do." 

"So  be  it.  Lieutenant  Arden,  you  will  be  re« 
sponsible  for  your  brother  to-night.  To-morrow  1 
will  send  him  under  guard  to  Winchester." 

And  Landon  entered  the  mansion,  silent  and 
gloomy.    I  remained  behind  with  the  young  men. 

"  0  Hairy  !  "  I  heard  the  young  Federal  officer 
say,  —  his  brows  contracted,  his  eyes  wet  with  tears 
of  shame,  —  "  that  ever  I  should  come  to  this,  and 
be  thus  degraded  ! ' ' 

And  like  one  "  refusing  to  be  comforted  "  the  un- 
fortunate victim  of  the  astute  Ratcliffe  turned  away 
in  silence. 

"  Well,  guard  me,  Harry ! "  he  added,  with  a 
bitter  smile  ;  "  who  knows  but  I  may  trick  you  and 
escape  before  morning?  " 

And,  leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  his  brother,  he 
entered  the  house. 

An  hour  afterward  I  had  thrown  myself  on  a 
couch,  wrapped  my  cape  around  me,  and  was  asleep. 
The  last  sounds  which  I  heard  were  the  voices  of 
the  two  brothers,  as  they  murmured  a  hundred  recol- 
lections of  youth  and  home.  There  was  an  un- 
speakably tender  music  in  the  accents  of  the  two 
youths,  as  there  was  something  strangely  pathetic  in 
their  fate.  To-morrow  they  might  meet  each  other, 
sabre  to  sabre,  and  shed  each  other's  blood;  to-night 


A  TBUMF. 


169 


diey  were  whispering,  like  children,  in  each  other's 
arms  ! 

On  the  next  morning  Harry  Arden  formally  re- 
ported with  his  prisoner  to  Landon,  and  the  prisoner 
still  insisting  upon  surrendering  his  parole,  ne  was 
despatched  under  guard  of  two  men  to  Early's  head- 
quarters. 

The  three  left  "  Bizarre  "  about  noon.  At  six  in 
the  evening  a  melancholy  and  "shame-faced"  pair 
of  Night-Hawks  reappeared.  Their  heads  bung 
down  ;  their  uniforms  were  bloody. 

"Well!"  saidLandon. 

" He's  got  off,  captain,"  groaned  one;  " escaped 
• — gone  !  " 

"  Clean  gone,  captain  ! "  moaned  the  other. 

A  few  words  conveyed  the  whole  melancholy  story. 
Half  way  to  Winchester,  Arden  had  wrested  a  pistol 
from  one  of  his  guards,  wounded  both  of  them  se- 
Terely,  and  succeeded  in  effecting  his  escape. 

Landon  turned  to  Harry  Arden  with  a  smile  of 
grim  admiration. 

"  Decidedly,  your  brother  is  a  trump !  "  he  said 
"  You  ought  to  be  proud  of  him ! " 


xxvin. 

ONE  OF  THE  BAIGHT  SPOTS  IN  MY  MEMORY. 

On  the  next  morning  I  set  out  from  "  Bizarre/5 
and  crossing  the  Shenandoah,  by  placing  my  saddla 
in  a  skiff,  and  swimming  my  horse,  proceeded,  by 
way  of  Ashby's  Gap,  to  Fauquier,  where  I  expected 
to  find,  and  inspect,  the  Partisans  of  Mosby. 

This  duty  I  determined  should  be  performed  as 
soon  as  possible.  I  was  anxious  to  return  to  Landon, 
who  had  evidently  resolved  upon  some  hazardous  ex- 
pedition. He  had  informed  me,  however,  that  he 
would  remain  at  "  Bizarre  "  for  three  or  four  days, 
to  rest  his  horses ;  and  I  promised  myself  that  I 
would  return,  if  possible,  before  he  again  moved. 

I  have  attempted  in  this  episode  of  my  memoirs 
to  confine  myself  as  closely  as  possible  to  the  curious 
events  connected  with  the  history  of  Landon.  Were 
I  writing  a  romance,  indeed,  "St.  Leger  Landon" 
would  be  an  appropriate  title  for  these  pages ;  and, 
doubtless,  this  introduction  of  a  central  figure  gives 
my  narrative  an  interest  more  human  and  dramatic 
than  could  otherwise  be  secured.    Am  I  wrong  in  so 

X70 


A  BBIGH1  !SPO  T  IN  MY  ME  MOB  Y.  171 


thinking,  friend?  I  think  I  am  not.  So  I  shall 
not  dwell  upon  ray  visit  to  "  Mosby  and  his  men." 

At  some  other  time  I  will  attempt,  perhaps,  a 
picture  of  those  joyous  Partisans,  and  describe  their 
free  life  amid  the  mountains,  in  the  forests,  or  scour- 
ing the  great  roads.  It  wis  a  branch  of  the  service 
wholly  different  from  the  rest ;  between  the  Partisans 
and  the  troops  of  the  regular  army  there  were  few 
points  of  resemblance,  save  their  common  courage, 
their  common  cau^e,  and  the  common  enrolment  of 
all  as  soldiers  if  the  Confederate  States,  fighting 
under  the  Confederate  flag. 

To-day  I  cannot  describe  the  Partisans,  or  their 
lithe  and  "  dangerous  "  commander,  with  his  gray, 
ioving  eyes,  his  smile,  revealing  the  white  teeth,  hia 
brief  words  of  command,  and  his  daring  soul. 
Imagine  this  King  of  the  Bangers,  amid  the  great 
forests  of  Fauquier,  with  his  horse  saddled  near,  and 
his  gay  followers  around  him.  Hear  the  jests  and 
laughter  ;  see  them  mount  and  away ;  hear  the  crack 
of  their  pistols;  see  the  long  string  of  blue  prison- 
ers, the  "  U.S. '  wagons,  the  numberless  mules  cap- 
tured. You  will  say  that  these  men  are  good 
soldiers,  who  fight  fairly,  pistol  to  pistol ;  but  read 
the  Northern  newspapers  and  you  will  discover  that 
they  are  outlaws, 

Or  you  would  have  discovered  that  in  the  good 
year  1864.    Now  the  smoke  has  drifted.    The  world 


172        A  BRIGHT  SPOT  IN  MY  MEMORY. 


sees  that  these  men  were  soldiers  l  And  when  theii 
commander,  Colonel  Mosby,  visits  the  Gold  Room  in 
Wall  Street,  some  of  the  worthiest  of  his  old  foea 
shake  his  hand,  and  say,  "  Welcome  !  " 

I  found  Mosby  below  Piedmont;  inspected  hia 
command,  which  had  just  assembled  for  a  raid  toward 
Alexandria  ;  and  on  the  next  morning  set  out  on  my 
'return  to  the  Valley. 

I  had  hoped  to  reach  the  vicinity  of  Millwood  on 
the  same  e  pening ;  but  you  know  when  you  set  out, 
you  do  not  know  when  you  will  arrive. 

Near   Upperville   I   met  my   friend,  Captain 

D  ,  who   insisted  that  I  should  go  and  dine 

with  him;  and  the  afternoon  found  me  still  en- 
thralled by  hi3  charming  household.  Then  I  was 
urged  to  attend  a  wedding  festival  at  a  neighbouring 
mansion,  "  B  ;"  and,  yielding  to  the  kind  per- 
sistence of  some  irresistible  personages,  I  went. 

I  wish  I  could  describe  that  charming  evening 
and  that  wonderful  supper  !  Ah  !  my  dear  reader, 
there  is  a  lurking  vice  in  this  life  of  peace ;  it  de- 
stroys the  magical  effect  of  contrasts.  I  had  been 
living  for  a  long  time  upon  about  a  quarter  of  a 
pound  of  rancid  bacon  and  some  musty  meal.  I  had 
partaken  of  that  imposing  banquet  from  a  tin  plate, 
on  the  lid  of  a  camp-chest.  Worse  than  all,  I  had 
seen  around  me  only  gray  uniforms  and  male  human 


A  3RIGHT  SPO  T  IN  M I  ME  MO  It  F.  173 


beings.  And  how,  as  though  by  magic,  I  had  en- 
tered a  different  world. 

All  around  me,  at  the  hospitable  mansion  of 

Mrs.  ,  I  saw  bright  eyes,  rosy  cheeks,  smiling 

lips,  and  braided  hair.  Round  arms  abounded,  en- 
circled with  bracelets  and  draped  with  lace.  White 
necks  swam  in  "illusion  "  like  heaps  of  snowy  roses, 
tinted  with  sunset.  And  then  the  supper  !  —  the 
wondrous  supper !  0  supper  to  be  ever  remem- 
bered !  Rich  viands,  roasts,  and  stews ;  immense 
pyramids  of  ice-cream ;  cakes,  jellies,  candied  orange, 
blanc-mange,  meringues ;  real  coffee !  and  actual 
white  sugar  and  cream  ! 

When  afterwards  I  described  that  supper  to  my 
comrades,  they  smiled  and  nodded  politely,  but  said 
nothing.  They  were  too  polite  to  contradict  me ;  but 
I  could  see  that  I  had  made  shipwreck  of  my  char- 
acter for  veracity,  and  was  regarded,  in  Shakespearian 
phrase,  as  a  "  measureless  liar  !  " 

In  truth,  that  was  a  notable  spectacle  on  the  Vir- 
ginia border  in  1864.  Happy  was  the  wandering 
staff-officer  who  partook  of  those  delicacies ;  happier 
still  in  conducting  the  fair  young  bride  to  sup- 
per ;  the  sweet  and  kindly  eyes,  shining  under  the 
floating  snow  of  the  long  veil  and  the  bridal 
wreath. 

But  no  human  happiness  is  without  alloy.  Sud- 
denly a  check  was  put  to  the  merrymaking. 


174        A  BBIGHT  SPOT  DT  MY  ME  MO  BY. 


I  observed  a  stir  in  the  company;  whispered 
words  passed  about ;  the  guests  flowed  toward  the 
door ;  and  then  I  heard,  for  the  first  time,  the  hurried 
words,  "  The  Yankees  are  coming  !  " 

The  effect  of  this  announcement  was  disagreeable. 
The  wedding  festival  was  brought  to  an  untimely 
end.  I  returned  with  my  fair  companion  to  the 
drawing-room,  and  said  to  an  acquaintance  :  — 

k<  What  is  the  origin  of  the  alarm  ?  " 

The  old  gentleman  whom  I  addressed,  and  who 
was  busily  looking  for  his  hat,  laughed  and  hurriedly 
replied :  — 

"  Some  of  Mosby's  men  report  that  the  Yankees 
are  rapidly  advancing  from  Middleburg.  They  are 
expected  at  Upperville  in  half  an  hour.  You  sol- 
diers had  better  get  away  from  here !  " 

And  he  hastened  to  the  door.  The  alarm  had 
now  become  general,  and  the  guests  were  rolling  off 
in  their  vehicles,  or  hastily  cantering  homeward  on 
their  horse3. 

I  came  last,  with  my  friend  Captain  D  ,  hav- 
ing made  my  bow  to  the  bride,  and  received  a  pres- 
sure of  the  small  white  hand,  and  a  bright  smile 
which  lit  up  the  rosy  face  like  sunshine. 

Pardon  my  poor  compliment,  madam;  and  the 
roses  which  bloomed  that  night,  —  may  they  never 
fade,  or  turn  to  lilies  ! 


A  BRIUHT  SPOT  IN  MY  MEMORY. 


175 


Riding  back  to  my  friend's  mansion,  between 
(Jpperville  and  Middleburg,  I  declined  his  invitation 
to  remain  all  night,  and,  resuming  my  arms,  which  I 
iiad  left  there,  turned  the  head  of  my  horse  oim 
more  toward  Ashby's  Gap. 


XXDC 


BLOUNT'S  SECRET. 

Il  was  two  in  the  morning,  and  I  never  saw  a 
darker  night.  The  hoof-strokes  of  my  horse  on  the 
turnpike  sounded  weird  and  ghostly.  I  must  have 
resembled  a  phantom  horseman  traversing  a  world 
of  silence. 

An  hour  afterwards,  travelling  leisurely,  I  passed 
through  the  quiet  and  apparently  deserted  village  of 
Paris,  where  not  even  a  yelping  cur  greeted  me,  and 
slowly  continued  my  way  up  the  mountain. 

All  at  once,  as  I  reached  the  summit,  near  the 
;t  Big  Poplar,"  a  shadow  detached  itself  from  the 
tree,  and,  advancing  rapidly,  took  the  shape  of  a 
mounted  man,  pistol  in  hand 

"  Halt !    Who  goes  there  ?  "  said  the  shadow. 

"  A  friend ;  that  i3  to  say,  if  you  are  a  friend  of 
The  South,"  I  replied. 

"Advance,  friend;  you  answer  straight  out." 

"  Because  I  know  that  there  are  no  Yankees  abou< 
here.  I  am  Colonel  Surry,  of  General  Lee's  armv 
What  command  is  yours?  " 

"Captain  Blount's,  colonel." 

i7S 


BLOUNT S  tECRET. 


177 


"  I  know  him,  —  and  an-  glad  I  know  him.  Where 
is  he?" 

' 1  Here,  colonei. 

And  a  second  shadow  —  this  time  on  foot  — 
came  out  from  beheath  the  *'  Big  Poplar.7'  I  had 
already  recognized  Blouni, 

"  Dismount,  and  come  and  rest  yourself,"  he  said, 
pressing  my  hand,  and  speaking  in  his  deep,  sad 
voice;  "you  ride  late,  my  dear  colonel,  and  must 
be  tired.  Come." 

' £  Willingly,  my  dear  captain, ' '  I  said. 

And,  dismounting,  I  walked  toward  the  poplar. 
Blount  had  taken  the  bridle  of  my  horse,  and  now 
tethered  him  to  a  bough.  A  moment  afterwards  we 
were  seated  beside  a  glimmering  picket-fire.  No 
other  human  being  was  visible. 

"  You  seem  to  be  keeping  '  lonely  watch  '  to- 
night, captain,"  I  said,  with  a  smile.  "  Where  is 
your  command  ?  ' ; 

"Oh!  not  far,"  he  said;  "they  are  sleeping 
yonder  in  that  clump  of  trees.  I  will  not  move  until 
sunrise." 

"  You  are  going —  " 

"On  an  expedition  toward  Berry ville;  and  I 
don't  wish  to  make  the  attack  I  intend  unti!  to  mor- 
row night.    So  I  am  not  in  a  hurry." 

"  I  see.    I  am  very  glad  I  have  met  you." 

"Thanks,  colonel." 
12 


173 


BLOUjsTS  secbet. 


And  Blount  inclined  w:th  sad  but  exquisite 
courtesy.  A  tongue  of  flame  had  caught  a  bundle 
of  twigs  near,  and,  by  the  light  streaming  up,  J 
could  see  the  calm,  noble  lace,  the  graceful  figure, 
in  its  close-fitting  graj  uniform ;  the  cavalry-boot3 
fitting  to  the  high  and  aristocratic  instep,  and  the 
light  sabre  balancing  the  revolver.  Under  the  brown 
hat  with  its  gold  cord  shone  the  grave,  soft  eyes, 
and  I  could  see  the  sad  smile  plainly.  It  was  hard 
to  realize  that  this  man  was  one  of  those  iron  souls 
who  shrink  from  nothing. 

We  entered  into  conversation,  for  I  was  not 
sleepy,  and  my  companion  seemed  not  to  need  rest. 
A  few  words  explained  my  errand  to  Fauquier,  and 
described  the  wedding  party. 

Blount  remained  silent  for  a  moment. 

'  •'  I  have  heard  no  firing  toward  Upperville, ' '  he 
said,  at  length,  "and  it  is  probable  that  the  enemy 
have  not  come  that  high  up.  It  is  a  pity  the  wed- 
ding party  should  have  been  interrupted,  —  a  great 

pity-"' 

<;  You  say  that."  I  said,  smiling,  "  as  if  you  re- 
mem  oered  your  own,  and  sympathized  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  " 

Blount's  head  sank. 

'•I  have  never  been  married/''  he  said.  1  No, 
no,  colonel,  —  that  has  been  spared  me." 

u  Spared  you  !    Pardon  me,  but  the  future  would 


BLOUNT'S  SECBE  * 


179 


seem  to  indicate  a  very  great  indisposition  to  inatri« 
mony." 

"  It  expresses  my  sentiment." 

-*  You  do  not  covet  £  connubial  felicity,'  then,  aa 
the  poets  call  it.  Or  perhaps  you  do  not  admire  the 
female  sex." 

"  They  have  worked  my  greatest  woe,  colonel." 

"Women?" 

'  Otoe,  at  least." 

The  words  Avere  uttered  in  a  tone  of  the  pre- 
foundest  sadnes3.  For  some  moments  I  said  noth- 
ing. Then,  thinking  of  the  true  face  which  had 
shone  upon  me  in  Winchester :  — 

"  Oh !  you  do  them  injustice,"  I  said;  "these 
poor  women,  so  much  maligned,  captain.  They  are 
thoughtless,  they  are  capricious,  but  they  are  pure 
gold  under  all." 

Something  stern  and  bitter  came  to  the  face  of 
Blount. 

"Iam  glad  your  experience  is  such,  colonel.  It 
has  not  been  mine,"  he  said. 

"  You  are  a  woman-hater,  then?  " 

"  No ;  I  do  not  hate  them.  My  sentiment  is  dif- 
ferent." 

I  bowed  my  head,  and  could  only  murmur :  — 
"  Something  has  wounded  you  deeply,  and  makes 
you  commit  a  terrible  injustice,  captain." 
Blount's  eye  flashed 


180 


BLOUNT'S  SEQRET. 


"An  injustice,  colonel!  No,  I  am  just.  I  am 
not  a  stern  or  unkind  person ;  I  would  cut  off  my 
right  hand  before  I  would  wrong;  a  human  bein£  • 
but  do  not  ask  me  to  have  any  respect  for  women." 

He  paused  and  his  flushed  face  was  both  sad  and 
lowering. 

"  I  surprise  you,"  he  said,  "  but  my  life  has  teen 
sorrowful.  I  am  not  fond  of  confidences,  colonel, 
but  something  in  you  wins  it.  Hear  me  say  a  few 
words  then.  Suppose  yourself  young  and  unsus' 
pecting,  —  suppose  you  love  a  young  girl  who  ap- 
pears the  soul  of  truth  and  honour,  —  suppose  she 
plights  you  her  troth,  looks  at  you  with  eyes  swim- 
ming in  tears  of  tenderness,  tells  you  a  thousand 
times  that  you  are  dearer  to  her  than  the  very  life- 
blood  of  her  heart,  and  then  betrays  you,  deceives 
you,  shipwrecks  your  life  !  Suppose  that !  and  then 
say  if  the  betrayed  person  can  respect  women?  " 

For  a  moment  I  could  not  reply.  Blount's 
tones  were  terrible. 

"  That  is  a  romance  you  relate,"  I  murmured. 

"It  is   the  truth,"  he   replied.  "Antoinette 

Du   Pshaw  !    here  I  am  giving  real  names  ! 

Let  us  speak  of  something  else,  colonel.  This  moves 
aie  beyond  my  wont." 

And,  passing  his  hand  over  his  brow,  Blount 
seemed  to  clear  away  all  the  mists  of  rising  anger 
which  had  obscured  his  sight. 


SL0UNT8  SECRET. 


181 


"I  didn't  intend  to  say  so  much,  colonel,"  he 
went  on  sadly;  "and  I  trust  you  will  pardon  me 
These  old  wounds  will  reopen  sometimes.  Look  upon 
all  this  as  '  a  romance '  !  "• —  your  word,  —  and  let  us 
speak  of  other  things." 

"  Well,  captain,  but  your  words  cause  me  unaf- 
fected sorrow." 

"That  is  my  mood  habitually,  colonel,"  he  said, 
smiling.    "Iam  not  gay,  and  least  of  all  to-night." 

"  Something  troubles  you." 

"  I  have  a  presentiment." 

1  A  presentiment?  " 

Blount  laughed ;  but  his  laugh  was  not  gay. 
"  That  I  am  going  to  die." 

"Pshaw!  banish  all  these  chimeras,  captain.  God 
does  not  forewarn  men.  He  strikes  them  when  their 
hour  comes,  and  they  fall.  Let  us  be  ready,  but 
not  fearful." 

Blount's  face  became  calm,  his  eyes  full  of  a 
sweet  and  grave  kindness. 

"You  are  right,  friend,"  he  said,  "and  I  thank 
you  for  these  words.  I  try  to  do  my  duty  and  leave 
the  rest  to  my  Creator.  I  sin  against  him  often.  I 
am  ashamed  of  it,  and  try  to  reform.  The  enemy 
drove  me  yonder  lately  in  a  fight  near  the  river, 
and  I  was  so  enraged  at  their  running  before 
the  young  ladies  who  had  come  3ut  on  the  lawn,  that 
I  cursed  and  swore  at  them  Like  a  vulgar  fellow. 


182 


BLOUNT'S  SECRET. 


On  the  next  day  I  was  ashamed,  and  went  and  begged 
the  young  ladies  to  pardon  me.  T  have  already 
asked  pardon  of  God,  colonel,  and  hope  he  will 
forgive  everything,  for  I  am  going  to  die  soon,  Now 
let  us  not  talk  further  of  that.  Tell  me  of  Peters- 
burg, the  chance  there,  and  what  you  think  of  the 
war  ?  " 

Blount  evidently  desired  to  change  the  subject, 
and  we  accordingly  spoke  of  public  events.  Half 
an  hour  afterwards  we  were  asleep,  lying  wrapped 
in  our  capes  by  the  camp-fire. 

At  sunrise  the  troop  was  moving,  and  I  parted  with 
Blount  at  the  river,  where  we  swam  our  horses,  — 
he  proceeding  down  the  left  bank,  I  toward  "Bizarre." 

His  last  words  to  me,  were :  "Forget  my  foolish 
talk  last  night,  colonel !  but  I  will  remember  your 
words." 

"  My  words?"  I  said. 

"  As  to  the  fates  of  men,  1  He  strikes  them  when 
their  hour  comes,  and  they  fall.  Let  us  be  ready, 
but  not  fearfuV  " 

A  grave,  sweet  smile  accompanied  the  words,  and, 
waving  his  hand  with  exquisite  grace  and  courtesy, 
Blount  disappeared  at  the  head  of  his  troop  in  the 
forest. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards  I  was  at  "Bizarre"  and 
had  exchanged  a  close  pressure  of  ths  hand  with 
Landon. 


XXX. 


TOUCH— AND— GO.  # 

I  had  returned  within  the  time ;  and  the  reader 
will  not  fail  to  comprehend  the  grounds  of  my 
anxiety  to  see  "Bizarre"  again. 

Landon's  narrative  had  produced  a  profound  im- 
pression upon  me.  This  young  Virginian,  so  bitter 
and  cynical  at  twenty-five,  and  pursuing  with  so 
much  ardour  his  private  vengeance,  attracted  me  irre- 
sistibly, and  I  experienced  an  uncontrollable  desire 
to  see  him  again,  and  be  present  at  that  denouement 
of  his  affair  with  Ratcliffe,  which,  something  told  me, 
would  not  long  be  delayed. 

The  main  attraction,  however,  was  Landon  himself. 
He  had  powerfully  aroused  my  sympathy.  This  life 
darkened  in  its  dawn ;  this  love  and  friendship  both 
betrayed ;  those  friends  turning  coldly  from  the 
young  man,  who,  thus  wounded  mortally  in  his  pride 
and  his  heart,  had  permitted  the  venom  of  misan- 
thropy to  filtrate, drop  by  drop,  into  his  Wood,  —  all 
this  made  up  an  absorbing  spectacle. 

"  Bah  !  nothing  that  is  mean  is  fanciful  in  human 
nature !  " 

183 


184 


TOUCH-AND-GO. 


Those  words  had  expressed  all.  Stern  moralists 
might  have  shaken  their  heads  and  muttered  "  Mon- 
ster !  ' '  For  my  part,  I  sighed  and  felt  a  strong 
sympathy  for  the  monster  ! 

On  reaching  "  Bizarre,"  I  was  cordially  greeted,  as 
1  have  said,  by.  Landon,  who  informed  me  that  I  had 
arrived  just  in  time,  as  he  was  going  to  set  out,  or 
the  next  morning,  on  a  scout  toward  Berryville. 

"After  Ratcliffe?" 

"Always,"  he  replied,  coolly.  "He  is  at  work 
again,  and  this  time  is  burning  houses  over  the 
heads  of  women  and  children," 

"  Your  scouts  keep  you  well  informed,  I  sup- 
pose ?  " 

"Yes,  especially  Touch-and-go.  By-the-by,  that 
is  a  remarkable  person,  colonel.  Have  you  noticed 
him?" 

"  Two  or  three  times,  and  he  appears  to  be  a  char- 
acter. ' ' 

"A  very  curious  one.    He  seems  to  have  a  pri- 
vate account  to  settle  with  the  enemy." 

"  You  do  not  know  his  history  ?  " 

' 1 1  am  wholly  ignorant  of  it,  and  can  only  teil 
you  that  he  is  a  perfect  tiger  in  presence  of  the  blue 
people.    He  seems  to  have  dedicated  his  life  to  the 
work  of  killing  as  many  of  them  as  possible,  and  hia  * 
' account '  is  kept  in  a  decidedly  original  fashion." 

"His  'aecount'  ?  " 


TOUCH-AND-GO. 


185 


1  I  mean  of  the  men  he  kills.  He  keeps  a  string, 
«itaj  a  knot  in  it  whenever  he  kills  an  opponent,  and 
I  assure  you  it  is  already  a  knotty  affair." 

Landon  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words  when  the 
door  opened,  and  Touch-and-go  came  in  silently,  salut- 
ing as  he  did  so.  His  boyish  face  wore  its  habitual 
expression  of  mildness ;  his  voice,  as  he  saluted  Lan- 
don, was  low  and  soft;  in  his  hand  he  carried  the 
string  referred  to ;  and  as  he  entered  he  was  tying  a 
knot  in  it. 

All  at  once  I  remembered  seeing  him  perform  that 
operation  twice  before :  the  first  time  on  the  night 
of  our  attack  at  the  Chapel,  just  after  he  had  shot 
the  vidette,  and  again  on  the  cay  when  Ratcliffe  was 
captured,  when  he  had  dashed  out  the  brains  of  the 
picket  at  the  gate  with  his'  own  carbine. 

Touch-and-go  was  evidently  "settling  his  account " 
very  steadily,  for  the  string  was  nearly  full  of  knots. 
To  the  number,  as  I  have  said,  he  had  just  added  a 
new  one,  after  which  he  quietly  restored  the  string  to 
his  pocket,  and  made  his 'report  to  Landon,  He  had 
penetrated  the  Federal  lines,  visited  Sheridan's  head- 
quarters, seen  houses  burning  in  every  direction,  and 
observed  every  indication  of  some  important  move- 
ment on  the  part  of  the  enemy. 

"  Good !  "  said  Landon,  <£  I  think  they  are  going 
to  attack  Early  at  last." 

Touch-and-go  waited  silent1  y  to  be  addressed 


186 


TOUGH  AND-GO. 


"  Anything  further,  captain?  "  he  said  at  length 

"  Nothing;  be  ready  to  move  with  me  at  dawn." 

Touch-and-go  saluted,  and  was  stealthily  retiring, 
when  I  said  :  — 

"  You  killed  a  man  this  evening,  —  did  you  not  ?  " 

"Yes,  colonel,"  he  replied,  quietly,  "near  Ber- 
ry ville.    I  shot  him  through  the  heart." 

"  That  is  another  knot  in  your  string." 

"Yes,  colonel." 

"Another  item  in  your  account  settled." 
"I  see  the  captain  has  been  talking  about  me, 
colonel." 

"  Yes,  but  he  does  not  know  your  history.  Is  it 
a  mystery,  Touch-and-go  ?  If  not,  it  would  interest 
me." 

"It  is  no  mystery,  colonel.  My  old  father  and 
mother  were  burnt  out  by  Hunter's  people,  on  a 
cold  and  rainy  night  last  spring.  They  were  all  night 
exposed  without  shelter,  and  crouching  in  a  fence 
corner,  to  the  storm ;  and  a  month  afterwards  they 
were  dead  from  typhoid  fever.  I  was  in  the  army 
at  the  time,  but  got  off  long  enough  to  see  them 
buried  decently.  Since  then  I  have  been  alone  in  the 
world,  and  have  been  trying  to  kill  as  many  Yan- 
kees as  I  can.  I  have  killed  forty-eight  that  I  know 
of.  Before  I  am  killed  myself  I  hope  to  make  it  a 
mndred." 


TOUCH-AND-GO. 


187 


I  looked  at  the  boy  who  uttered  these  words,  full 
of  calmness  and  simplicity. 

"  Do  you  expect  to  be  killed,  Touch-and-go  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  Yes,  colonel.  The  war  is  getting  to  be  a  bloody 
affair.  I  think  we  will  all  be  killed  —  if  we  do  our 
duty." 

"  You  are  right,"  I  said. 

"  I  try  to  do  mine,  colonel,  and  I  believe  it  is  to 
kill  Yankees.    Forty-eight  is  not  many ;  I  wish  it 
•  was  ten  thousand.    But  I  hope  to  make  it  a  hun- 
dred." 

And  waiting  an  instant  to  ascertain  if  Landon  had 
any  additional  orders,  the  boy  saluted  modestly,  and 
quietly  left  the  apartment. 

"  What  a  war  !  "  I  said,  as  the  youth  disappeared  ; 
' 1  the  very  children  are  desperate,  and  this  one  seems 
perfectly  fearless." 

"I  think  he  never  experienced  the  emotion," 
Landon  replied;  "and  he  is  as  pious  as  he  seems 
blood-thirsty.  He  never  utters  an  oath,  reads  his 
Bible,  says  his  prayers,  and  is  a  model  of  sweet  tem- 
per and  kindness." 

As  Landon  spoke,  a  knock  came  at  the  door,  and 
one  of  the  men  entered. 

"  Here  is  a  deserter,  captain,"  he  said,  saluting 
"he  says  he  belongs  to  Captain Ratcliffe  s  command 
and  must  see  you." 


188 


TOUCH-AND-GO. 


"  To  Ratcliffe's?" 

"He  was  his  orderly,  he  says." 

"Send  him  in,"  said  Landon,  "and  be  readj 
with  a  rope  there  to  hang  him  !  "  ^ 

The  man  saluted  and  left  the  apartment.  I  gazed 
at  Landon  with  some  astonishment. 

"  To  hang  him  !  "  I  exclaimed,  as  the  door  closed, 

Landon  nodded. 

"I  see  you  are  not  familiar  with  the  devices  of 
our  blue  friends  in  this  region,  colonel.  Civilized 
warfare  is  too  tame  for  them ;  they  improve  upon  it. 
To  wear  blue  coats  and  fight  fairly  is  too  stupid ;  so 
they  dress  whole  companies  of  1  Jesse  Scouts '  in 
Confederate  gray  to  deceive  us." 

"But—" 

"  This  deserter?  He  is  sent,  ten  to  one,  by  Rat- 
cliffe.  You  have  had  a  specimen  of  that  worthy's 
courage;  you  have  here,  probably,  a  specimen  of 
his  finesse.  He  despairs  doubtless  of  whipping  me  ; 
he  aims  at  entrapping  me.  His  orderly  deserts  to 
me,  discovers  my  numbers,  halting-places,  every- 
thing; then  slips  off  some  night,  returns  to  Rat- 
cliffe,  and  before  morning  I  am  surprised,  attacked, 
and  cut  to  pieces,  five  against  one,  without  warning, 
all  in  consequence  of  having  listened  with  confiding 
simplicity  to  his  emissary." 

"  You  are  right." 


TOUCH-AND-GO. 


m 


"  X  think  so.  The  trick  is  stale  and  will  nj>t  fool 
me." 

"  You  will  hang  this  boy  ?  " 
"Is  he  a  boy?" 

"  Yes ;  I  saw  him  that  night  at  Chapeldale,  and 
be  brought  Ratcliffe's  detachment  in  pursuit." 

"  Well,  you  see  he  is  the  confidential  orderly, 
emissary,  spy  of  his  master.  My  rope  is  going  to 
be  put  in  requisition  in  twenty  minutes." 

As  he  spoke,  the  door  opened  and  the  desertei 
was  ushered  in. 


XXXI. 


THE  DESERTER. 

It  was,  in  fact,  the  young  orderly  who  had  fired 
upon  me  that  night  at  Chapeldale,  and  then  mounted 
and  escaped.    I  saw  before  me  the  same  brilliant 
black  eyes;  the  same  mocking  smile  on  the  red  lips 
the  same  rosy  cheeks  and  rounded  outlines. 

The  youth  was  clad  in  a  handsome  uniform,  con 
sisting  of  ample  blue  pantaloons,  falling  over  small 
and  delicate  boots;  a  full  roundabout  with  bright 
buttons,  and  dazzling  chevrons  on  the  sleeves;  a 
light  waistcoat,  fitting  closely  to  the  figure;  and  over 
the  broad  white  brow,  edged  with  short  auburn  curls 
fell  the  ample  rim  of  a  blue  cavalry  hat,  with  a  gold- 
en cord  around  it. 

Such  was  the  costume  of  the  boy,  —  half  private's, 
half  officer's.  It  was  his  mode  of  wearing  it,  how- 
ever, which  attracted  most  attention.  Never  did 
costume  sit  more  jauntily  upon  human  being; 
never  had  I  realized  so  completely  the  gay  vivan* 
diere  of  the  French  comedy.  Everything  about  the 
boy  was  feminine  and  coquettish ;  no  other  words 
convey  the  idea.    And,  as  the  reader  will  soon  per 

190 


THE  DESERTER. 


191 


ceive,  there  was  the  best  reason  in  the  world  for  the 
phenomenon  in  question . 

The  young  deserter  advanced  straight  into  the 
apartment,  and  distributed  a  comprehensive  smile 
which  had  in  it  something  decidedly  satirical.  In- 
stead of  being  abashed,  he  appeared  completely  at  his 
ease,  and  returned  Landon's  cold  glance  with  a  sang 
froid  which  was  incomprehensible. 

"Who  are  you?  "  said  the  Partisan,  coldly. 

"  A  deserter  at  your  service  ;  from  Captain  Rat- 
cliffe's  company,"  was  the  reply. 

The  voice  was  low  and  musical;  the  accent  de- 
cidedly French. 

"Your  name?"  continued  Landon,  as  coldly  as 
before. 

The  deserter  looked  around.  On  his  lips  the  mock- 
ing smile  grew  more  defined. 
"  Would  you  like  to  know? " 
"  Since  I  ask  you,  — speak  f  " 
"  Dismiss  that  man." 

And  the  boy  pointed  coolly  to  the  guard  standing 
behind  him. 

"  Good  !  "  said  Landon  ;  "the  comedy  grows  de- 
cidedly amusing.  You  dictate  orders  at  my  head- 
quarters ;  but  no  matter." 

And  with  a  movement  of  his  hand  he  dismissed 
the  guard,  who  went  out,  closing  the  door  behind 
him. 


192 


TEE  DESEBTEB. 


"Naw,  request  this  gentleman  to  retire  in  hit 
turn." 

"  Speak  in  his  presence,"  said  Landon. 
The  deserter  looked  fixedly  at  the  Partisan. 
"  I  may  speak  before  him  of  your  most  private 
affairs?" 

"  My  private  affairs  !  You  ?  Yes ;  they  are  all 
known  to  him." 

"  Very  good,"  was  the  cool  answer.  "  First  you 
asked  my  name,  I  think?" 

"Yes." 

"My  name  is  Antoinette  Duvarny." 

And  the  speaker  calmly  sat  down  in  an  arm-chair 
opposite  Landon. 

At  the  words  "My  name  is  Antoinette  Duvarny  '" 
I  could  not  suppress  a  start.  The  words  of  Blount 
suddenly  returned  to  my  memory.  ' '  Antoinette 
Du  —  pshaw  !  here  I  am  giving  real  names.  "  Could 
the  person  before  me  be  a  woman,  — and  by  any  possi- 
bility that  woman  of  whom  Blount  had  spoken? 
Had  this  singular  "deserter"  played  the  main  part 
in  that  tragic  drama  which  had  overshadowed  the 
life  of  so  brave  and  noble  a  gentleman  ?  The  fact 
seemed  incredible;  but  there  was  the  astonishing 
similarity  of  name.  "Antoinette  Du —  "  could  be 
no  one  beside  "Antoinette  Duvarny,"  I  said  to 
myself. 

I  was  thus  reflecting,  when  the  woman  resumed. 


THE  DESEBTEB. 


193 


with  a  laugh,  which  displayed  a  set  of  pearly  teeth, 
"My  sex  gives  me  permission  to  drop  ceremony,  my 
dear  Captain  Landon,  and  I  am  sure  that  such  a 
gallant  gentleman  as  yourself  would  never  keep  a 
lady  standing." 

Landon  was  gazing  at  her  keenly. 

"  Then  you  are  a  woman  ?  "  he  said. 

"  At  your  service." 

"  Your  object  in  deserting  ?  " 

"  To  reach  you." 

"Why?" 

The  deserter  smiled. 

"To  betray  you,  of  course.  Are  they  not  pre- 
paring the  rope  yonder  to  hang  me  as  soon  as  our 
little  talk  is  over?" 

"  That  was  not  your  design,  then  ?  " 

The  deserter  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  No ;  something  very  different." 

"  Speak  plainly." 

"With  pleasure.  Well,  in  coming  to  make  you 
a  visit,  my  dear  Captain  Landon,  I  am  prompted  by 
a  sentiment  which  is  said  to  be  powerful  with  women 
when  it  gains  possession  of  them,  —  the  sentiment, 
namely,  of  vengeance." 

"  Vengeance  ?  " 

"Precisely;  and  upon  one  whom  I  hate  bitter- 
ly, —  a  dear  common  friend  of  ours." 

Landon  was  silent,  gazing  at  the  speaker.  Ilis 

13 


194 


TEE  DESEBTEM. 


glance  seemed  piercing  enough  to  penetrate  km 
soul. 

"  You  mean  Captain  Ratcliffe?  " 

"  Yea." 

"  You  hate  him?" 

"  For  the  last  month,  bitterly." 

"  You  would  avenge  some  wrong  upon  him  ?  " 

u  Yes,  by  telling  you,  his  enemy,  what  will  send 
you  on  his  track;  make  you  hunt  him  day  and 
night;  keep  you  from  eating,  drinking,  sleeping, 
until  you  have  his  blood." 

A  flash  darted  from  the  black  eyes.  It  was  easy 
to  see  that  there  was  not  tne  least  acting  in  this 
person.  Never  was  hatred  more  clearly  expressed 
in  mortal  face. 

Landon's  cheeks  filled  with  blood ;  his  eyes 
glowed. 

"  Speak !  "  he  said,  in  an  inyxdous  voice.  "  I 
am  listening." 

And  hi3  dark  eyes  tfere  riveted  upon  the  coun- 
tenance of  the  desertei 


xxxn. 


ANTOINETTE  DUVARNY. 

The  deserter  greeted  Landon's  threatening  glance 
&Ad  address  with  perfect  nonchalance. 

"A  moment,"  she  said,  stretching  out  carelessly 
a  small  foot  in  the  most  delicate  boot  imaginable. 
"Monsieur  seems  really  about  to  eat  me!  Fie! 
that  is  not  gallant  to  a  lady." 

Landon  leaned  his  elbow  upon  the  table  beside 
him,  rested  his  forehead  upon  his  hand,  and  awaited 
in  gloomy  silence. 

"  Eh  bienl^  said  ^  ^serter,  in  her  satirical 
voice;  "that  is  better  You  are  more  reasonable, 
my  dear  Captain  Landon.  1  see  that  you  have  made 
up  your  mind  to  listen  t«  ny  highly  interesting 
communication  without  interruption;  and  I  assure 
you  that  there  are  certain  pi  rtions  of  it  which  will 
tax  your  self-control  to  the  utmost." 

Landon  made  no  reply  ;  he  listened.  The  desert- 
er continued :  — 

"  I  have  referred  to  Ratcliffe  as  your  enemy 
What  if  I  tell  you  that  I  have  been  an  enemy  a 
thousand  times  more  deadly,  —  though  inspired  by 

195 


196  ANTOINETTE  D U VAUNT. 


no  rancour  at  all  toward  you  ?  Such  is  the  fact 
Oaptain  Landon.  I  come  here  in  the  midst  of 
your  1  Night  Hawks,'  where  your  will  is  law,  to  tell 
you  that ;  and  I  do  so  because  I  know  you  to  be  a 
brave  man  and  a  gentleman,  — not  the  base,  petty 
tyrant  I  have  left  yonder. 

"  Listen,  sir,"  continued  the  deserter,  with  a  bit- 
ter smile,  —  "  listen,  and  I  will  relate  a  very  curious 
series  of  events  for  your  entertainment.  They  would 
interest  the  most  indifferent,  for  I  swear  to  you  they 
are  singular;  they  will  interest,  above  all,  Captain 
St.  Leger  Landon,  for  they  explain  how  Miss  Adair 
came  to  break  his  heart." 

"  Miss  Adair !  n 

"  And  her  own  nearly,  at  the  same  moment," 
added  the  deserter. 

Landon  shuddered.  In  his  white  face  his  eyes 
resembled  two  red  hot  coals. 

"Speak  !  "  he  muttered,  hoarsely. 

"  You  will  not  interrupt  me  ?  " 

"  I  will  not." 

"  Then  listen,"  continued  the  deserter,  coolly, 
"  and  I  will  tell  you  everything.  My  object  in  re- 
vealing all  this  will  appear  later. 

11  Let  us  go  back,  if  you  please,  Monsieur  Lan- 
don, to  the  year  1860,  at  which  time  you  and  thia 
dear  Ratcliffe  were  fellow-students  at  West  Point, 
and  I  was  residing  in  a  village  not  far  distant.  I 


ANTOINETTE  DUVABNT. 


197 


was  not,  however,  a  native  of  the  North.  I  was 
born  in  New  Orleans,  where  I  first  met  the  charm- 
ing Ratcliffe;  and  —  shall  I  tell  you  everything? 
—  relate  a  little  romance  for  your  amusement? 
You  will  scarcely  understand,  unless  I  begin  at  the 
beginning  " 

"  Proceed,*'  aaid  Landon,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  With  great  pleasure,*'  said  the  deserter,  with  a 
singular  smile. 

And  in  tones  of  bitter  humour  she  resumed :  — 

"  My  story  will  not  be  long.  I  was  born  of 
French  parents,  in  the  city  of  New  Orleans,  and  at 
a  ball  one  evening  met  a  young  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  from 
East  Tennessee.  He  was  exceedingly  handsome, 
and  paid  me  marked  attention.  On  the  next  day  he 
called  to  see  me ;  and,  to  be  brief,  became,  or  pro- 
fessed to  be,  romantically  enamoured  of  my  dear 
self.  I  was  flattered,  —  my  suitor  was  an  Adonis, 
you  see,  Monsieur  Landon,  —  and  I  listened  to  his 
flattering  protestations.  I  should  not  have  done  so, 
for  I  had  already  plighted  my  word  to  a  gentleman 
a  thousand  times  more  worthy  of  respect  and  love 
than  this  person  Ratcliffe.    I  was  thus  guilty  of  a 

base  wrong  to  Mr.  ;  but  I  will  not  soil  his 

name  by  pronouncing  it  with  my  lips.  I  will  only 
say  that  I  was  the  affianced  of  one  immeasurably 
superior  to  this  Tennessee  Adonis ;  and  that  [  de- 


198 


ANTOINETTE  D  WARN  T. 


ceived  and  betrayed  him,  breaking  his  heart  for  the 
love  of  a  vulgar  poltroon  ! 

11  Well,  things  took  their  course.  Ratcliffe  con- 
tinued his  addresses  secretly,  and  proposed  that  we 

should  be  married  secretly,  as  the  rage  of  Mr.  

— that  is,  of  my  affianced  —  would  be  great.  That 
should  have  opened  my  eyes  ;  but  I  was  foolishly  in 
love  with  the  Tennesseean,  and  I  consented.  We 
were  accordingly  married  privately.  I  left  my  family 
with  only  a  few  lines  of  adieu ;  went  to  Tennessee 
with  Ratcliffe  ;  and  thence  accompanied  him  to  West 
Paint,  in  a  village  near  which  place  I  took  up  my 
residence.  Here  he  visited  me  regularly,  by  leaving 
West  Point  without  permission ;  and  I  went  more 
than  once  to  see  him  at  his  own  quarters.  At  his 
quarters  !  you  may  exclaim,  —  a  woman  visit  a  West 
Point  Cadet  at  his  quarters  ?  Yes,  my  dear  Cap- 
tain Landon,  nothing  in  this  wicked  world  is  more 
deceiving  than  •  appearances.'  Is  not  life  a  comedy, 
or  a  tragedy,  at  best  ?  Are  not  the  costumes  half 
the  spectacle  ?  The  dress,  does  not  that  make  the 
man  or  the  woman  ?  Well,  I  observed  that  a  cadet 
was  a  human  being  in  a  little  swallow-tailed  coat, 
striped  pantaloons,  and  a  cap  of  peculiar  fashion ; 
and  as  my  dear  Ratcliffe  brought  me  a  uniform,  I 
became  a  'West  Point  Cadet'  in  ten  minutes.  I 
enjoyed  the  frolic,  for  there  has  always  been  a  spice 
of  diablerie  in  my  character.    I  dressed  myself,  and 


ANTOINETTE  DUVAENY. 


109 


looked  with  admiration  at  my  figure.  In  i  j  jaunty 
little  uniform,  with  my  hair  hidden  beneata  the  cap, 
and  walking  arm  in  arm  with  Ratcliffe,  it  was  im- 
possible to  mistake  me  for  anything  }  dt  a  military 
youth ;  and  the  proof  is,  that  you  s  aw  me  a  dozen 
times,  and  we  were  once  introdu  ,ed ;  you  never 
suspected  me  ! 

"Well,  this  is  growing  tedious  —  to  proceed  to 
events.  In  speaking  of  whal  took  place  in  New 
Orleans,  I  was  somewhat  inaccurate.  I  stated  that 
Ratcliffe  and  myself  were  1  married.'  I  should  have 
said  that  I  believed  at  the  time  that  we  were  married 
lawfully ;  the  real  fact,  however,  was,  that  this  dear 
Ratcliffe  had  tricked  i  nd  betrayed  me.  I  was  poor. 
Ratcliffe  discovered  that,  and  he  deceived  me  by  a 
sham  marriage.  One  of  his  companions  personated 
a  priest,  —  the  whole  ceremony  was  a  farce,  —  and  I 
only  came  to  know  this  months  afterwards,  when  in 
the  North.  Ratcliffe  taunted  me  with  the  fact  one 
day,  when  he  was  shamefully  intoxicated,  and  when 
something  between  us  had  led  to  hot  words. 

"  I  will  not  stop  to  describe  my  feelings  at  this 
announcement.  I  think  it  aroused  the  devil  in  me; 
and  Ratcliffe  afterwards  told  me  that  the  very  ex- 
pression of  my  eyes  sobered  him ;  they  '  looked  like 
red  hot  coals,'  he  was  pleased  to  say;  and,  indeed,  I 
could  have  killed  him  at  that  moment,  or  put  an  end 
to  myself.    This,  then,  was  the  man  for  whom  I  had 


200  ANTOINETTE  D  UVABNY. 


betrayed  —  my  affianced,  his  superior  a  million 
times !  For  this  vulgar  wretch  I  had  broken  the 
noblest  heart  I  have  ever  known !  Well,  an  hour 
afterwards  I  had  grown  calm.  Ratcliffe  had  soothed 
and  again  deceived  me.  I  was  foolishly  in  love 
with  his  pretty  face,  and  again  trusted  him.  He 
had  deceived  me,  he  acknowledged ;  but  with  no 
intention  to  do  so  really.  His  family  would  never 
have  consented  to  the  match,  he  said  ;  but  he  would 
soon  be  his  own  master ;  he  would  wed  me  before  the 
whole  world ;  and  I  was  lulled  to  sleep  again. 

"  Charming  evidences  of  my  dear  Ratcliffe's  con- 
fidence followed  this  desagrement,"  continued  the 
deserter,  satirically.  "  He  was  more  confiding  than 
ever  before,  les3  reserved  as  to  his  past  life ;  and  so 
one  day  he  related  a  curious  incident,  which  I  think 
will  interest  you,  Captain  Landon,  since  it  refers  to 
a  certain  Miss  Adair  of  this  neighbourhood." 

Landon's  face  slightly  flushed.  Otherwise  he 
remained  unmoved. 

"Continue,"  he  said,  coolly. 

"  With  pleasure,"  the  deserter  replied.  "Well, 
the  incident  related  by  my  dear  Ratcliffe  was  this. 
He  informed  me  that  just  before  meeting  me  he  had 
made  the  acquaintance  of  a  young  lady  in  Virginia ; 
had  paid  his  addresses  to  her ;  she  had  led  him  on 
step  by  step ;  then  when  he  spoke,  she  had  laughed 
at  him,  refusing  his  suit  with  hauteur  and  positive 


aNTOIXKTTE  DUVATINY. 


201 


insult.  When  I  asked  if  it  was  possible  that 
4  such  deception  could  be  practised  by  any  one,' 
Katcliffe  growled  out  for  reply,  that  he  had  been 
betrayed  by  a  rival.  The  young  lady  had  fallen 
crazily  in  love  with  a  certain  St.  Leger  Landon; 
Landon  was  his  friend ;  the  very  confidence  reposed 
in  you  had  been  his,  Ratcliffe's,  destruction  ;  he 
would  be  revenged  on  you  and  the  young  lady ! 

"..He  told  me  all  this  with  flashing  eyes,  and  a 
face  red  with  violent  anger.  He  had  long  ceased  to 
care  for  Miss  Adair,  he  added,  but  he  would  give  his 
right  hand  to  be  revenged  upon  her  and  the  treacher- 
ous friend,  who,  knowing  his  passion  for  her,  bad 
basely  interposed,  and,  by  his  deceitful  arts,  won  the 
heart  of  the  young  lady  from  him ! 

"When  he  spoke  thus,  I  laughed;  and  probably 
with  a  bitter  sneer  in  the  laughter. 

"  '  What  are  you  laughing  at?  '  said  Ratcliffe. 

"  '  At  your  ideas  of  "baseness"  and  "deceitful 
arts/'  '  I  said.    1  That  is  the  way  you  won  me.  ' 

"His  face  grew  black;  but,  seeing  that  thi3  ex- 
pression did  not  intimidate  me  in  the  least,  he  con- 
trolled his  anger,  assumed  a  wheedling  tone,  and 
resumed  his  narrative.  A  few  additional  words  ter- 
minated it.  What  he  now  had  resolved  on,  he  sa)d, 
was  full  vengeance.  Would  I  assist  him?  If  I 
consented,  he  would  marry  me  at  once !  Only  to 
secure  his  vengeance  I 


202  ANTOINETTE  D  V  VAUNT. 


"  I  have  never  seen  hate  expressed  so  strongly 
lie  positively  magnetized  me  —  this  dear  Hatcliffe  \ 
lie  was  extremely  handsome,  and  his  anger  be- 
came him.  Then  his  proposal  was  not  so  disagree- 
able. To  strike  my  rival  did  not  positively  revolt 
me  !  To  be  brief,  RatclnTe  saw  that  he  had  made 
the  desired  impression,  and  proceeded  at  once  to  lay 
before  me  the  scheme  which  he  had  devised. 

u  Shall  I  go  on,  sir,  or  do  I  weary  you  ?  But  no 
reply  to  that  question  is  necessary.  1  see  from  your 
countenance,  Captain  Landon,  that  you  are  by  no 
means  weary.  Well,  to  proceed  with  my  story. 
Ratcliffe  may  be  base,  —  I  have  never  seen  any  one 
more  so, — but  after  hearing  me  to  the  end,  you 
will  be  compelled  to  confess  that  he  is  ingenious  !  " 


xxxm. 


THE  RING. 

With  the  same  subtle  and  mocking  smile  upon 
'die  lips,  the  deserter  continued  •  — 

"Ratcliffe's  plan  was  excellent  and  had  the 
simplicity  of  genius.  I  need  not  tell  you.  my  dear 
Captain  Landon,  that  cunning  is  more  dangerous  in 
this  world  than  force ;  that  the  most  deadly  of  all 
weapons,  the  keenest-edged  tools  to  play  with,  are 
the  passions  of  the  human  heart ! 

"  Well,  our  dear  Ratcliffe  determined  to  play 
upon  the  love  existing  between  yourself  and  Miss 
Adair.  His  object,  he  declared,  was  to  ruin  your 
character,  break  your  engagement,  destroy  your 
4 insolent  happiness,'  — I  well  remember  that  phrase, 
—  and  so  '  get  even '  with  you  and  the  young  lady 
at  the  same  moment.  In  this  he  required  my  as- 
sistance, —  would  I  give  it  ?  If  I  would  aid  him  he 
would  repay  me  by  wedding  me  at  once.  We  would 
return  to  Tennessee,  whence  he  came,  and  live  in 
wealth  and  luxury.  Such  was  his  offer,  and  it  won 
me.  Do  you  laugh  at  me?  Well,  I  deserve  it. 
But,  to  be  frank  again,  I  was  very  much  in  love  with 

203 


204 


THE  MING. 


this  poor  wretch  at  the  time.  His  superb  face  ^nd 
figure  had  impressed  my  foolish  fancy.  I  listened, 
assented ;  three  days  afterward  I  had  basely  acted 
as  he  dictated. 

"  You  shall  judge  if  I  am  wrong  in  saying  that  I 
acted  basely.  Ratcliffe  had  said  to  me  :  '  The  first 
thing  was  to  make  Landon's  friends  and  family  think 
him  a  reprobate  and  a  blackguard.  I  have  seen 
to  that,  he  is  ruined ;  now,  the  next  thing  is  to 
destroy  him  in  the  estimation  of  the  girl  he  loves. 
Here  is  a  ring  and  a  draft  of  a  letter :  copy  and 
sign  the  letter,  enclose  the  ring  in  it,  and  put  the 
whole  in  this  envelope.'  With  these  words  he  left 
me,  and  I  read  the  rough  draft  of  the  letter.  It 
was  truly  devilish  !  —  and  I  copied  and  sent  it  to 
Miss  Adair ;  sent  the  ring  with  it  also,  —  your 
engagement  ring,  which  RatcinTe  afterward  ac- 
knowledged he  had  drawn  from  your  finger  while 
you  were  asleep  !  " 

Landon  had  listened,  pale  and  cold,  but  his  face 
now  flushed. 

"I  remember  missing  the  ring,"  he  muttered, 
"  but  thought  that  I  had  lost  it  while  bathing  in  the 
Hudson. " 

"No,  it  was  stolen  from  you;  you  know,  at 
last,  how,  and  by  whom." 

"  And  that  letter,"  said  Landon,  in  an  altered 


THE  BING. 


205 


voice,  —  a  voice  full  of  inexpressible  menace,  — 
u  what  was  that  letter  ?  " 

"  Would  you  like  to  hear  me  repeat  it?  But,  no, 
that  is  not  necessary.  In  the  graceful  little  docu- 
ment, Mademoiselle  Antoinette  Duvarny  presented 
her  compliments  to  Miss  Ellen  Adair,  and  begged  to 
return  to  that  young  lady  the  engagement  ring 
whicL  she  had  given  to  Mr.  St.  Leger  Landon,  and 
which  Mr.  St.  Leger  Landon  had  in  turn  presented 
to  Mademoiselle  Duvarny. " 

Landon  half  rose  ;  his  eyes  blazed. 

"  You  were  base  enough  to  do  that!"  he  said, 
hoarsely,  his  brow  wet  with  cold  perspiration. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  cool  reply. 

"  And  you  dare  to  confess  it !  confess  it  to  me  ! 
—  Miserable  wretch  —  " 

And  Landon' s  hand  was  extended  as  though  to 
clutch  some  weapon. 

"It  was  necessary,"  came  as  coolly.  "I  would 
have  concealed  this,  but  could  not.  For  the  rest, 
Captain  Landon,  I  am  not  compelled  to  speak.  If 
you  do  not  wish  to  know  all,  tell  me  so.  and  I  vill 
say  no  more." 

"Goon,"  came  in  the  same  hoarse  tone. 

"  Very  good  —  to  continue." 

And  the  deserter  went  on  in  a  voice  in  which  it 
was  impossible  to  discern  the  least  emotion. 

"  I  was  speaking  of  the  engagement  ring  whicb 


206 


TEE  EINQ. 


Mademoiselle  Duvarny  begged  to  return  to  Misa 
Adair,  its  original  owner.  Mr.  Landon  —  the  letter 
said  —  had  for  some  time  been  the  lover  of  Miss 
Duvarny;  in  the  confidence  of  private  intercourse 
had  mentioned  his  little  affair  of  the  past  with  Miss 
Adair ;  had  laughed  at  it ;  spoken  slightingly  of  Miss 
A. ;  declared  himself  weary  of  the  affair  completely; 
and  had  given  her,  Miss  Duvarny,  the  little  token 
which  she  now  returned,  since  she  was  unwilling  to 
retain  the  property  of  Miss  Adair,  under  the  'pe- 
culiar circicmstances. 

"  That  was  all.  But  it  was  quite  enough,  —  was 
it  not  ?  A  month  afterwards  Ratcliffe  came  to  me 
gleefully,  and  informed  me  that  he  had  received  in- 
telligence that  your  engagement  with  Miss  Adair 
had  terminated.    I  never  saw  him  more  joyful. 

"  '  That  was  a  master-stroke  ! '  he  said,  'and  I 
knew  it  would  succeed,  for  I  defy  any  woman  to  act 
differently  under  the  same  circumstances.  Ac- 
knowledge, my  dear,'  he  went  on,  'that  the  thing 
was  a  real  thunderbolt !  You  write  on  your  pretty 
little  note-paper  the  history  of  your  little  affair  with 
cur  friend  Landon;  you  enclose  his  engagement 
ring  given  you  by  him,  —  what  woman,  after  that, 
but  would  scorn  to  see  his  face  again,  as  long  as  she 
lived?' 

"  'True,'  I  replied,  'it  was  ingenious,  but  I  feel 
like  the  base  woman  I  am,  for  the  part  I  had  in  it 


tee  mm. 


207 


N  ^ertheless,  it  is  done,  and  now  give  me  my  re- 

ware* 

"  '  Your  reward  ?  '  he  asked. 

"  '  Yes,'  I  replied;  'marry  me  and  take  me  to 
Tennessee.  -  -  I  am  tired  of  this.? 

"  His  rcpJy  was  a  laugh. 

• 1  f  Did  I  think  be  was  in  earnest  ? 

"  I  could  have  strangled  him,  and  I  think  my 
hatred  commenced  from  that  very  moment.  He 
continued  to  reply  to  all  my  entreaties  with  the  same 
laughter;  said  only  that  some  day,  perJiaps,  he 
would  keep  his  promise ;  and  then,  in  the  midst  of 
all  this,  the  war  broke  out.  RatclhTe  was  assigned 
to  duty  with  the  army  in  Missouri,  —  came  to  tell  me 
good-by,  and  set  out  to  join  his  command.  I  was 
basely  deserted. 

"  Well,  two  weeks  afterwards  I  rejoined  him,  wear- 
ing the  dress  of  a  boy.  I  continued  with  him ; 
came  hither  with  him,  loving  him  foolishly,  blindly, 
—  a  pleasing  confession,  is  it  not,  gentlemen  ?  I 
continued  to  fill  my  post  of  orderly  to  Ratcliffe, 
with  my  feelings  unchanged,  until — -he  met  and 
again  began  to  love  Miss  Adair !  " 

The  speaker  paused.  Her  voice  changed.  She 
had  spoken  up  to  this  moment  in  a  careless  and 
mocking  tone,  but,  as  she  uttered  those  words,  "  until 
he  met  and  again  began  to  love  Miss  Adair,"  her 
accent  became  cold  and  menacing. 


S08 


THE  RIM?. 


"  My  story  is  nearly  finished,"  she  added,  with  a 
threatening  flash  of  the  eye,  "and  a  few  words  will 
tell  you  what  has  happened  recently.  Then  I  will 
come  to  the  main  point,—  my  errand  here  i  " 


xxxiy. 


THE  OFFER  AND  REFUSAL* 

"Katoliffe  went  to  see  Miss  Adair,'*  continued 
the  deserter,  "  on  the  day  after  his  arrival  in  the 
neighborhood. 

"  He  commanded  a  full  company  of  regular 
cavalry ;  established  his  camp  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  young  lady's  residence ;  and,  taking  a  guard  of 
a  dozen  men,  went  to  visit  her.  T.  think  he  was 
afraid  of  guerillas.  He  is  not  a  coward,  but  he  is 
not  brave.  Well,  he  went,  and  I  vent  with  him, 
anxious  to  see  the  face  of  the  woman  whom  he  had 
once  loved. 

"  It  was  a  very  beautiful  face.  More  still, — it 
was  pure  and  high-bred.  This  was  a  lady  truly. 
Well,  Ratcliffe's  manner  to  Miss  Adair,  who 
received  him  with  freezing  coldness,  was  the  per- 
fection of  laughing  carelessness  ;  you  would  have 
sworn  that  he  cared  nothing  for  her.  They  were 
old  acquaintances,  he  said  ;  the  war  had  wafted 
him  hither  ;  he  thought  he  would  call  and  see  her, 
as  well  as  Judge  Adair;  and,  if  he  could  be  of  use 
to  them  in  any  way,  they  had  only  to  indicate  it. 
14  £09 


210  THE  OFFER  AND  REFUSAL, 


"  These  polite  speeches,  however,  made  not  the 
least  impression.  I  was  standing  at  the  door,  and 
saw  Judge  Adair's  eye  flash ;  as  to  the  young  lady, 
she  was  a  veritable  iceberg ;  and  Ratcliffe  came  out 
ant  rode  off  in  a  towering  rage  at  his  reception. 

"That  did  not  prevent  him,  however,  from  going 
again ;  and  again  I  accompanied  him  as  his  orderly, 
and  witnessed  his  reception.  More,  —  I  heard  the 
conversation  between  himself  and  Miss  Adair,  her 
father  being  ill ;  and  this  conversation  related  to 
yourself,  Captain  Landon.  Ratcliffe  spoke  of  the 
time  before  the  war,  when  he  was  a  guest  in  your 
house  at  1  Bizarre,'  and  something  had  occurred 
there,  it  seemed,  slightly  differing  from  the  statement 
which  he  had  made  to  me  at  West  Point.  In  other 
words,  it  was  Ratcliffe  who  had  tried  to  steal  away 
Miss  Adair's  affection  from  you,  —  to  break  your 
engagement,  while  he  was  residing  in  your  house  as 
your  guest ;  and  this  fact  Miss  Adair  now  referred 
to,  and  charged  him  with.  He  laughed,  but  far  from 
gayly.  It  sounded  like  a  growl  rather,  —  that  harsh 
and  forced  laughter.  He  replied  that  the  charge 
was  true;  'but  Landon' s  character  had  justified 
him.'  You  were  a  k  sr  eak  and  a  coward,  as  waa 
proved  by  your  leaving  the  country  and  giving  up 
the  woman  you  loved  for  a  mere  fancy.'  She  turned 
pale  as  he  spoke ;  her  eye3  —  they  are  grand  eye3  ! 
—  flashed  haughtily     '  He  is  not  here  ! '  she  said, 


THE  OFFER  AXD  REFUSAL. 


211 


superbly,  'it  is  easy  to  see  that  you  know  that, 
sir  !  '  Half  an  hour  afterwards  Ratcliffe  left  her, 
white  with  rage,  gnawing  his  lips,  muttering  curses, 
and  —  loving  her  1 

*■  I  saw  that,  and  it  raised  the  demon  in  me.  For 
this  man  had  subjected  my  whole  life  to  his  will.  I 
had  despised  myself,  struggled' against  my  infatu- 
ation, sought  to  break  the  chain  that  bound  me  ;  but 
without  success.  I  loved  him  still,  and  up  to  that 
moment  was  his  slave.  But  at  the  moment  when  I 
discovered  that  he  loved  Miss  Adair,  I  began  to  feel 
my  free  will  return  to  me.  Revenge  began  to  re- 
place love.  Not  revenge  upon  her,  —  for  she  had 
done  nothing;  she  despised  this  man,  — but  on  him. 

1 '  Events  hastened.  Going  everywhere  with  Rat- 
clifFe, I  was  at  the  ford  yonder  when  you  attacked 
and  drove  him  back  upon  Millwood.  I  bore  him  off 
that  night  when  you  had  bruised  him  by  a  blow  of  your 
pistol,  from  which  he  soon  recovered,  however.  I 
was  at  the  Chapel  with  him,  where  he  was  not  en- 
gaged, and  afterwards  went  with  him  to  Miss  Adair's, 
where  you,  sir,"  —  and  the  speaker  turned  to  me,  — 
"  captured  the  valiant  Ratcliffe  and  carried  him  off. 
Well,  on  that  night  I  yielded  to  a  weak  impulse  and 
brought  up  the  cavalry  which  recaptured  him.  I 
was  repaid  by  another  scene  that  night  at  Judge 
Adair's,  in  which  he  stormed  at,  insulted,  and  de- 
clared his  love  for  Miss  Adair.    Then  you  captured 


212 


THE  OFFER  AND  REFUSju*. 


him  in  turn,  Captain  Landon;  he  escaped,  and 
another  visit,  still,  to  Miss  Adair,  followed. 

"  Let  me  finish.  For  the  last  three  days  his  in- 
fatuation has  become  a  species  of  madness.  He  has 
repulsed,  insulted,  spurned,  put  his  heel  upon  me ! 
I  am  no  longer  anything  but  the  wretched  slave  of  his 
caprice  !  lie  has  made  nothing  of  telling  me  that  I 
am  disgusting  in  his  eyes.  He  has  dared  to  use  a 
term  in  addressing  me  that  I  will  not  repeat !  Yes, 
this  man,  to  whom  I  have  sacrificed  everything,  — 
for  whom  I  have  lost  name  and  fame,  and  all  that  a 
woman  values,  —  this  base,  cowardly  wretch,  who  has 
lied  and  tricked  and  betrayed  others  for  so  long,  has 
now  insulted,  outraged,  and  betrayed  me  I 

':He  has  betrayed  me!  "  continued  the  speaker, 
with  flaming  eyes  ;  1 1  but  woe  xo  him  !  He  has  not 
counted  on  the  Basque  blood  of  the  Duvarnys  !  I 
have  but  one  aim,  —  to  crush  him  !  And  now, 
perhaps,  you  understand  why  I  have  come  hither, 
Captain  Landon.  I  come  to  say,  You  have  only  to 
follow  me  to  surprise  and  destroy  the  bitterest  ene- 
my you  have  in  the  world  !  I  will  lead  you  straight 
to  him ;  will  deliver  him  into  your  hands,  asking  one 
thing  only,  —  that  you  will  allow  me  to  be  present 
when  you  bury  your  sword  in  his  cowardly 
heart!  " 

She  paused,  shuddering  with  rage.  It  was  an  ab- 
sorbing spectacle,  — that  beautiful  face  convulsed,*  that 


THE  OFFER  AND  REFUSAL.  213 


bosom  shaken  by  wrath ;  those  lips  half  open,  and 
showing  the  white  teeth  close-set  beneath. 

"  Will  you  follow  me  ?  "  she  said,  hoarsely  and  ab- 
ruptly to  Landon ;  "I  will  go  unarmed  between  two 
men ;  you  can  shoot  me  if  I  betr&F  you ;  will  you 
follow  me?  " 

"  No !  "  said  Landon,  rising, 

"  You  refuse  !  " 

"  I  will  do  better,"  said  the  Partisan,  coldly.  "I 
will  kill  him  in  fair  fight  before  your  eyes,  or  ha 
shall  kill  me!" 


XXXV. 


IN  THE  "  FOX-SPRING  WOODS.** 

I  DAVE  said  that  in  returning  from  Fauquier  ta 
the  Valley,  I  had  hastened  my  steps,  in  order  to  be 
present  at  the  denotement  of  the  aifair  between  Lan- 
don and  Ratcliffe.  —a  denouement  which  some- 
thing told  me  would  not  long  be  delayed. 

That  ''something"  was  the  intense  bitterness  of 
the  adversaries  ;  the  knowledge  upon  Landon's  part 
that  hia  enemy  had  destroyed  his  character,  and  the 
fact  that  Ratcliffe  doubtless  knew  that  he  knew  it. 
That  was  enough  to  make  two  men  thirst  for  each 
other's  blood ;  but  now  a  far  more  bitter  sentiment  of 
hatred  inflamed  Landon ;  and  I  foresaw  an  early  ter- 
mination of  the  drama. 

Ratcliffe  had  not  only  blackened  his  good  name 
he  had  produced  that  rupture  with  Miss  Adair  which 
had  nearly  broken  Landon's  heart  It  was  easy  to 
understand  that  from  this  moment  the  young  Partisan 
would  never  rest ;  that  he  would  follow  Ratcliffe  as  a 
bloodhound  follows  the  trail.  W hen  they  met,  one 
would  die. 

It  was  this  fierce  wrestle  which  I  now  looked  for- 

2H 


IN  THE  "  FOX-SPBJNG  WOODS. 


215 


ward  to  with  absorbing  interest.  On  the  day  aftei 
the  interview  woich  I  have  just  described,  Landoa 
was  in  the  saddle  at  the  head  of  about  thirty  men, 
and  we  were  proceeding  in  the  direction  of  Berry- 
ville 

The  deserter  had  remained  behind,  by  his  order, 
at  "Bizarre;"  but  this  order,  as  the  reader  wil] 
perceive,  availed  little. 

I  shall  now  attempt  to  narrate,  in  then  regular 
order,  the  strangely  tragic  events  which  occurred  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  Old  Chapel.  I  look  back 
to  these  events  with  a  sort  of  wonder,  asking  myself 
if  they  really  took  place  before  my  eyes,  or  were 
only  a  dream.  Here  at  Eagle's  Nest,  in  1868,  all 
that  past  looks  so  strange  !  That  autumn  of  1864, 
when  I  marched  and  fought  with  Landon,  seems  an 
unreal  epoch  ;  Millwood,  the  Lover's  Leap,  Bizarre, 
the  Old  Chapel,  mere  imaginary  places,  which  I 
have  visited  in  slumber,  dozing  here  in  my  elbow- 
chair  ! 

But  you  nestle  yonder  still,  —  do  you  not,  —  little 
village  of  Millwood,  on  the  banks  of  the  limpid 
stream,  stealing  on  to  the  Shenandoah?  Lover's 
Leap !  you  still  hang  above  the  flowing  river 
Weeping  willows  of  the  Old  Chapel !  you  are  sigh- 
ing still,  I  think,  above  the  graves  of  the  dear  dead 
ones  :  the  brave  children  of  the  Valley  whom  I  loved 
and  will  ever  love! — sighing  now  in  1868,  wheD 


21 6         IN  TEE  "  FOX-SPRING  WOODS. ' 


the  hours  are  dull  and  long,  as  in  1864,  when  they 
rushed  onward,  crammed  with  adventure ;  when 
every  minute  sounded  the  death- knell  of  some  heart 
that  poured  out  its  blood  for  Virginia  ! 

0  wondrous  days  and  nights  of  1864,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Shenandoah  !  Golden  days,  moonlight 
nights  of  that  dreamy  autumn  !  I  have  seen  much  in 
my  time,  and  have  many  things  to  remember ;  but  I 
will  forget  all  before  I  forget  you ! 

Landon  passed  through  Millwood  at  the  head  of 
his  men,  left  the  little  church  embowered  in  trees 
behind  him,  and,  advancing  steadily,  reached  a  point 
on  the  Berry ville  road  about  two  miles  from  Mill- 
wood. 

Here  he  obliqued  to  the  right,  "followed  a  nar- 
row road  for  a  few  hundred  yards,  and  then,  pene- 
trating the  forest,  halted  his  men  in  a  hollow  of 
what  are  called  the  "Fox-Spring  Woods." 

He  then  informed  me  that  he  was  going  to  ride 
ahead,  in  order  to  reconnoitre  in  person,  and  in- 
vited me  to  accompany  him.  To  this  I  gladly 
assented  ;  and  Arden,  having  been  left  in  com- 
mand of  the  Night-Hawks,  Landon  turned  his 
horse's  head  toward  the  Chapel. 

As  we  went  on  through  the  woods,  advancing 
6lowly  amid  the  thick  undergrowth,  I  observed 
upon  the  Partisan's  countenance  evidences  of 
uuwonted  emotion. 


IN  THE  "  FOX-SPUING  WOODS."  217 


"Something  moves  you,  Landon,"  I  said,  gazing 
at  him;  "what  is  it?" 

"  It  would  puzzle  me  to  tell  you,"  was  his  reply. 

And,  riding  on  for  a  few  moments  in  silence,  ho 
suddenly  added : — 

"  Do  you  believe  in  presentiments?  " 

"  Yes,  and  no." 

u  Well,  I  believed  in  them  this  morning !  " 
"You  feel  some  presentiment?   Of  what?  Of 
evil?" 

"I  cannot  reply  to  that.  I  can  only  say  that 
something  tells  me  this  day  will  prove  an  epoch  in 
my  life,  —  a  sad  life  for  the  rest,  and  scarce  worth 
an  epoch !  " 

"  Come,  cheer  up  !  " 

"  I  am  not  cast  down.  On  the  contrary  a  strange 
force  seems  to  have  come  to  me,  —  my  blood  rushes 
through  my  veins,  as  if  to  meet  and  breast  some 
struggle  that  is  near  !  Something  drives  me  on ;  do 
you  remember  the  Greek  Necessity  with  her  iron 
wedge?  In  her  hands  the  gods  themselves  were 
powerless !  " 

I  looked  curiously  at  Landon,  and  he  caught  my 
glance.    A  grim  smile  came  to  bis  lips. 

u  You  are  surprised  at  my  fanciful  talk,"  he  said, 
"  but  I  assure  you  it  expresses  my  feelings  to-day. 
I  know  that  I  am  going  to  engage  in  some  desperate 
struggle.  I  go  to  it  blindly,  with  my  feet  dragged  — 


218 


iy  THE  "  FOX-SPULSG  WOOD&T 


without  free  w3L  As  to  its  character  or  result,  1 
know  nothing,  and  cannot  say  whether  it  will  be 
fortunate  or  unfortunate, — happy  or  terrible/' 

IL*3  head  sank,  and  he  went  on  in  silence.  Then 
the  head  rose :  the  face  of  the  Partisan  had  assumed 
an  expression  which  I  had  never  seen  upon  it  before. 
Tuat  expression  was  sweet  and  yet  resolute :  a 
strange  rainorling  of  gentleness  and  courage. 

1  know  not  how  it  is.  Surry,*'  he  said,  thought- 
fully :  1 :  but  all  my  life  seemed  tc  pass  before  me  as 
1  rode  on.  this  morning.  It  is  a  strange  life,  —  i3  it 
not?  and  enough  to  account  for  that  bitterness  and 
cynicism  which  you  must  have  noted  in  me.  Some- 
times I  am  puzzled.  —  I  wander  and  stumble  in  my 
thought.  —  I  believe  in  God,  in  his  merciful  Prov- 
idence, in  his  goodness,  his  justice:  but  at  times 
the  devil  comes,  and  whispers  in  my  ear :  1  You 
are  the  victim  of  a  blind  fatality :  there  is  no  Prov- 
idence ;  all  13  the  sport  of  chance  ! 1 

;  1  Do  you  wonder  at  that  ?  Think  of  my  life  !  I 
wa3  a  happy  and  warm-hearted  boy :  now  I  am  a 
cold  and  dreary  man.  I  loved  my  mother  as  dearly 
as  man  could,  and  she  was  murdered  by  those  cow- 
ardly gossips.  I  loved  a  woman.  —  and  she  threw 
me  away  without  hearing  me  say  a  word  in  my 
defence.  Then  thi3  terrible  war  came  to  finish  me, 
aud  make  me  old.  Think  of  this  country,  in  which 
my  youth  passed  so  happily,  laid  wa^te  with  Lre  and 


IN  TIIE  "FOX-tiPRING  WOODS." 


2il» 


sword,  —  the  smiling  homes  reduced  to  ashes,  ohe 
brave  boys  in  bloody  graves  in  the  Old  Chapel  yonder, 
the  very  grave  of  my  mother  exposed  at  any  moment 
to  desecration  \ 

"Is  it  strange,  then,  that  I  am  hard  and  an  old 
man  before  my  time?  — that  I  doubt  the  goodness 
of  God  sometimes —  miserable  creature  that  I  am  !  — 
and  feel  tempted  to  cry  out  c  Vengeance  !  be  thou 
my  god  ! 5  It  is  bitter  food  we  ^at.  a  bitter  fountain 
we  drink  from,  in  this  year  of  our  Lord  1864! 
And  what  is  left  us,  but  to  fight  on?  For  my 
part  I  shall  never  lower  my  flag  until  the  end ;  and 
a  bullet,  perhaps  to-day,  may  save  me  that  trouble." 

I  looked  steadily  at  him. 

"  You  think  it  will  ?  "  I  said. 

"  Who  knows  ?  Did  I  not  tell  you  just  now  that 
I  felt  a  singular  presentiment  ?  " 

"  Pshaw !  You  did  not  sleep  last  night,  Landon, 
you  are  nervous  !  " 

He  smiled  grimly. 

"On  the  contrary  I  slept  soundly,  —  only  I 
dreamed." 

"  What  did  you  dream?  " 

"That  a  house  was  burning  somewhere;  that 
Ratcliffe  met  me  hilt  to  hilt  in  single  combat ;  that 
a  rope  was  thrown  around  my  feet  by  unseen  hands ; 
I  was  dragged  to  the  ground,  and  Ratcliffe  leaned 
his  sword's  point  on  my  throat,  when  I  awoke !  " 


220         IN  THE  "FOX-SPTtim  WOODS.9 

tl  Good  !  Remember  that  dreams  always  go  c  by 
contraries.5  Landon.  None  of  this  is  going  to 
happen ! " 

"You  are  wrong,"  said  Landon,  coolly;  "and 
thero  is  the  beginning  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  pointed  through  an  opening  in 
the  woods.  To  the  left  of  the  Old  Chapel  I  saw  a 
dense  smoke  rising.  A  second  glance  convinced  nm 
that  it  was  Chapeldale  on  fim 


XXXVL 


WAR  IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  FHENANDOAH  IIT 
1864. 

In  an  instant  all  Landon's  preoccupation  had  dis- 
appeared. Dreams,  presentiments,  memories, — all 
had  vanished,  leaving  the  Partisan's  eye  fiery,  his 
lip  firm-set,  his  muscle  strong  for  the  coming  conflict 

Plunging  the  spurs  into  his  horse,  he  darted  for- 
ward, leaped  a  ravine,  and  gained  a  knoll  from  which 
the  eye  embraced  the  whole  landscape. 

"  Chapeldale  !  "  he  gtaid. 

Suddenly  the  noise  of  hoofs  resounded  on  the 
turnpike  in  our  front,  A  moment  afterwards,  a 
white  robe  gleamed,  a  lady  on  horseback  appeared; 
she  approached  at  fuU  gallop,  and  I  recognized  Miss 
Adair. 

We  spurred  to  meet  her,  and  she  drew  rein.  I 
have  never  seen  acuter  distress  than  that  written 
upon  her  face. 

"  Captain  Landon !  "  she  exclaimed ;  and  a  sudden 
rash  of  crimson  to  her  cheeks  betrayed  her  deep 
emotion  at  the  encounter. 

Landon  bowed  low ;  I  could  see  his  heart  throbbing, 

221 


222 


THE  VALLEY  IN  1364. 


"  I  was  coming  to  look  for  help  from  some  one 
They  have  carried  off  my  father." 

And,  unnerved,  overwhelmed,  the  young  lady  burst 
into  tears.  In  an  instant,  however,  she  had  dashed 
away  the  tears,  and  her  huirieJ  words  put  us  in 
possession  of  the  main  points  of  a  scene,  of  which  I 
afterward  heard  all  the  details. 

Ratcliffe  had  come  on  that  morning  to  Chapeldale 
with  a  detachment  of  cavalry,  and,  finding  Judge 
Adair  ill  in  bed,  had  demanded  an  interview  with 
the  young  lady,  who  reluctantly  made  her  appear- 
ance. Ratcliffe  was  pale  and  gloomy,  and,  having 
closed  the  door,  informed  Miss  Adair  that  he  had 
come  to  visit  her  for  the  last  time.  He  had  sworn, 
he  declared,  to  attain  thr-  object  which  he  had  so  long 
sought,  and  Miss  Adair  was  perfectly  aware  of  the 
subject  to  which  he  alluded. 

When  she  demanded  m  explanation,  declaring 
herself  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  him,  Ratcliffe  bru- 
tally announced  that  his  object  was  to  force  hei  into 
a  union  with  him,  Il$.e  war  was  nearly  over,  he 
said ;  the  people  of  the  Valley  utterly  impoverished ; 
he  was  rich  from  speculation,  and  he  came  to  offer 
the  young  lady  his  hand  and  his  fortune.  If  she 
consented,  they  would  live  wherever  she  wished  5  he 
would  resign  his  commission,  go  to  Paris,  obey  her 
slightest  caprice.  If  she  refused, — then  he  had 
made  up  his  mind.    He  would  drag  her  sick  father 


THE  VALLEY  IN  1864. 


223 


from  his  b&J,  set  fire  to  the  house,  and  cjirry  the  old 
man  off  to  take  his  chance  of  living  or  dying  from 
exposure.  Miss  Adair  might  have  her  choice,  — 
wealth  and  luxury  as  his  wife ;  if  she  refused  him, 
the  destruction  of  all  she  held  most  dear.  Crouching 
in  presence  of  the  burning  roofs  of  Chapeldale,  with 
her  sick  father  carried  off  by  his  troopers  before  her 
eyes,  she  would  then  understand  the  love  of  a  man 
like  himself.  He  had  sworn  in  his  heart  that  he 
would  do  this,  and  would  keep  his  oath. 

Such  had  Been  Ratcliffe's  announcement.  Miss 
Adair  had  replied  by  a  bitter  and  scornful  refusal. 
Rather  than  wed  him,  she  would  die  a  thousand 
deaths,  —  submit  to  all,  —  and  as  to  her  father,  God 
would  watch  over  him. 

Ratcliffe's  fury  at  this  reply  passed  all  bounds. 
Raging  like  a  wild  beast,  he  had  ordered  Judge 
Adair  to  be  dragged  out  of  his  bed  and  placed  on 
iiorseback,  the  house  to  be  fired,  —  and  these  orders 
had  been  promptly  obeyed.  Miss  Adair  had,  mean- 
while, hastened  out  of  the  house  to  the  stable,  sad- 
dled their  sole  remaining  horse  with  her  own  hands, 
and,  profiting  by  the  confusion,  made  her  escape 
across  the  fields  in  the  direction  of  Millwood,  where 
she  hoped  to  find  some  of  the  Partisans,  and  lead 
them  back  to  the  relief  of  her  father. 

As  she  ascended  the  hill  near  the  "  Fox-Spring 
Woods,"  our  gray  uniforms  in  the  foliage  had 


224 


THE  VALLEY  IN  1864. 


attracted  her  attention  -,  she  had  hastened  to  gir« 
the  alarm ;  "  if  no  time  was  lost  we  might  be  able 
to  rescue  her  father." 

Landon's  sole  reply  was :  — 

"  I  hope  to  arrive  in  time." 

Ami,  raising  his  whistle  to  his  lips,  he  sounded  the 
cavalry  signal,  "  Rally  on  the  Chief.'1 

Before  five  minutes  had  elapsed,  a  sudden  tramp- 
ing was  heard  in  the  forest ;  the  Rangers  appeared 
coming  on  at  full  speed;  and,  placing  himself  in 
front  of  them,  with  drawn  sabre,  Landon  darted  at  a 
headlong  gallop  in  th«  direstion  of  the  burning 
house. 


XXXVII. 


NO  QUARTER. 

That  rush  across  the  fields,  leaping  rocks,  ra- 
vines, fences,  was  a  superb  spectacle,  and  the  memory 
of  it  still  stirs  my  blood. 

We  swept  by  to  the  left  of  the  Old  Chapel, 
crossed  a  meadow,  mounted  the  Chapeldale  hill,  and 
were  in  front  of  the  burning  mansion,  from  whose 
windows  spouted  smoke  nnd  flame. 

Above,  a  great  black  cloud,  like  the  smoke  rising 
from  a  gigantic  torch,  hovered,  assumed  fantastic 
outlines,  and  slowly  drifted  away,  darkening  the 
calm  September  landscape,  and  disappearing  upon 
the  horizon. 

Landon  had  rushed  up  the  hill  in  front  of  his 
men.  His  eyes  blazed.  I  saw  that  the  tiger  was 
aroused  in  him. 

"Look !  "  he  said,  with  a  whirl  of  his  sabre,  aa 
he  turned  in  his  saddle  and  pointed  to  the  house. 
"  Women,  children,  and  the  sick  are  their  victims, 
—  and  they  are  yonder  !  " 

With  a  quick  gesture  he  indicated  a  detachment 
of  blue  horsemen  ascending  a  hill  toward  Berryville 
15  225 


226 


NO  QUAE  TEE. 


"No  quarter!"  he  shouted.  "Follow  me!  — 
and  no  quarter  to-day  '  " 

As  he  spoke.  Landon  darted  on  the  track  of  th€ 
Federal  cavalry.  The  rangers  followed  him  head- 
long. From  their  ranks  rose  a  wild  and  furious  cry, 
—  "No  quarter  !  " 

What  followed  seems  to-day,  as  I  go  back  in 
memory,  like  some  terrible  phantasmagoria,  —  some 
nightmare  of  blood  and  death  rather  than  an  actual 
occurrence. 

On  that  morning  of  September,  I  saw  Partisan 
warfare,  in  its  darkest  and  most  frightful  phase. 

Landon 's  fierce  rush  carried  him  over  the  distance 
which  separated  him  from  the  Federal  cavalry  in  an 
incredibly  brief  space  of  time.  Nothing  made  him 
pause  for  an  instant.  Riding,  drawn  sabre  in  hand, 
twenty  yards  ahead  of  his  men.  the  Partisan  cleared 
every  obstacle,  drove  on  with  bloody  spurs,  and 
then  I  saw  him,  — for  I  had  not  been  able  to  keep  up 
with  his  headlong  rush,  —  I  saw  him  disappear  in 
the  midst  of  the  enemy,  cutting  right  and  left  with 
the  sabre. 

The  Rangers  followed  :  every  man  selected  hia 
adversary,  —  for  the  Federal  detachment  numbered 
scarcely  more  than  thirty  men,  —  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  blue  horsemen  were  scattered  in  wild 
flight. 

But  the  flight  did  not  avail  them.    On  their  track 


NO  QUABTEB. 


227 


followed  Landon  and  his  sabreurs.  cutting  them  out 
of  the  saddle,  or  pistolling  them,  man  by  man. 

A  dozen  times  I  heard  the  cry  "  I  surrender  !  " 
and  saw  hands  thrown  up,  arms  dropped.  Each 
time  came  the  terrible  response '  ^- 

"  No  quarter  !  " 

And  the  men  who  had  surrendered,  like  those 
who  still  fought,  were  shot,  sabred,  or  hurled  from 
the  saddle,  and  trampled  under  foot.  If  they  rose, 
a  pistol  bullet  was  sent  through  them,  or  they  were 
ridden  down,  and  mercilessly  put  to  death  at  the 
point  of  the  sword.* 

Of  the  whole  command,  a  few  only  escaped; 
among  whom,  as  I  afterwards  discovered,  was  Rat- 
cliffe.    The  speed  of  his  horse  had  alone  saved  him. 

A  mile  from  the  Chapel  toward  Berryville,  the 
affair  had  come  to  an  end.  The  road  was  strewed 
with  dead  men  and  horses.  Not  a  wounded  man 
was  seen.    They  had  all  been  pistolled. 

Landon  wiped  his  bloody  sabre  on  his  horse's 
mane. 

"  So  much  for  the  house-burners ! ,'  he  said, 
coolly ;  "I  think  I  have  done  for  them  !  " 

•WucL 


xxxvin. 


"PARTISAN  RANCOUR." 

Judge  Apair  had  been  recaptured,  and  w« 
found  him  awaiting  us  on  the  hill  above  the  Chapel, 
his  daughter  on  horseback  beside  him. 

The  old  cavalier's  weakness  seemed  suddenly  to 
have  left  him.  He  sat  his  horse  as  erect  as  the  Cid 
Campeador  himself,  his  gray  hairs  streaming  upon 
his  shoulders,  his  eyes  flashing  with  joy. 

"  Thanks  !  thanks !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  the  Han- 
gers came  up.  And  he  grasped  the  hand  of  Landon, 
of  Arden,  mine,  and  those  of  the  men. 

"Don't  mind  my  house,"  he  said,  looking  toward 
Chapeldale,  which  was  now  a  great  mass  of  roaring 
and  crackling  flames  ;  "  it  is  nothing.  I  do  not  re- 
gret it,  as  you  have  given  such  a  good  account  of 
the  rascals  who  insulted  me.  I  have  plenty  of 
friends  near  Millwood ;  they  will  give  me  a  resting- 
place  for  my  gray  hairs,  and  take  care  of  Ellen  !  " 

And  the  light  of  a  superb  courage  flashed  grandly 
from  the  old  cavalier's  fiery  eyes  as  he  uttered  the 
words. 

Landon  hastened,  however,  with  his  men  to  the 

228 


"PARTISAN  BANCOUB."  229 


mansion,  and  the  Rangers  exerted  themselves  to  res- 
cue as  many  valuables  as  possible  from  the  flames. 
These  were  few,  however.  The  house  was  a  sea  of 
flame.  Two  hours  afterwards  the  walls  alone  were 
standing ;  and  the  hospitable  mansion  of  Chapeldale 
was  a  mass  of  blackened  ruin,  —  a  thing  of  the  past. 

Landon  was  sitting  his  horse,  looking  gloomily  at 
che  min. 

"Look,"  he  said,  "this  is  the  way  they  make 
war  on  us  in  the  Valley  We  are  wild  beasts  to  be 
hunted  down,  and  smoked  out  of  our  dens.  The 
torch  is  to  accomplish  what  the  sword  cannot ;  they 
cannot  whip  our  soldiers ;  they  burn  out  and  starve 
our  women  and  children,  and  if  we  murmur  we  are 
told  that  we  are  —  rebels !  Let  a  writer  here- 
after describe  this  scene,  Surry,  and  he  will  not  be 
believed.  £  Partisan  rancour  !  Sectional  hatred  ! 5 
the  North  will  cry ;  and  not  one  in  a  thousand  will 
credit  him.  But  you  see.  Here  is  the  terrible  fact 
staring  you  straight  in  the  face.  This  country  is  to 
be  desolated,  in  order  that  our  troops  cannot  operate 
in  it.  ■  A  crow  flying  over  the  region  shall  be  com- 
pelled to  carry  his  rations ! 7  they  declare.  Well, 
they  desolate  the  poor  Valley  by  burning  out  women 
and  children,  and,  for  fear  that  the  crow  may  find 
food,  they  destroy  that  too.  Let  them  starve,  those 
women  and  children  !  Are  they  not  rebels  1  See 
that  dangerous  one !  " 


130  "  PARTISAN  BANCO  UP..9* 

And  Landon  pointed  to  Miss  Adair,  who  was  lean, 
ing  on  the  shoulder  of  her  old  negro  mammy,  and 
trying  to  stifle  her  sobs.  Beside  her  stood  Judge 
Adair,  still  erect  and  defiant. 

"  They  are  right !  "  said  Landon ;  "  there  is  only 
one  way  to  conquer  such  a  race  as  that,  —  it  is  to 
starve  or  exterminate  them !  " 

They  were  starved,  reader  Ask  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia. 


XXXIX. 


THE  LAST  KNOT  IN  THE  STRING. 

Landon  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words  which  1 
have  just  recorded,  when  a  horseman  in  gray  sud- 
denly made  his  appearance,  coming  at  full  gallop 
across  an  extensive  field  west  of  the  house. 

"Look!"  said  Landon;  "that  is  Touch-and-go. 
I  sent  him  out  to  reconnoitre,  and  he  has  something 
to  report." 

"  An  attack,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"It  is  probable.  We  are  not  far  from  the  maiii 
camp  of  the  enemy's  cavalry." 

"True;  and  Ratcliffe  escaped;  he  has  probably 
given  the  alarm." 

"He  has  certainly  done  so." 

"Then  look  out!" 

Landon' s  cool  smile  responded. 

"I  expect  an  attack,"  he  said;  '  did  I  not  tell 
you  this  morning  that  to-day  would  be  an  era  in  my 
life,  —  would  bring  some  singular  event  ?  Well,  I 
think  the  event  is  coming." 

And  Landon  rode  to  meet  the  young  scout. 

m 


232 


THE  LAST  KNOT  IN  THE  STRINis. 


"  You  will  be  attacked  in  ten  minutes,  captain !  " 
said  Touch-and-go,  quickly. 
4(  From  waat  quarter  ?  " 

Touch-and-go  pointed  in  the  direction  from  which 
he  had  come. 

ik  Their  number  ?  " 

"  About  a  hundred  !  " 

"  Good  !  that  is  not  too  many." 

''Look  out!"  said  the  scout,  pointing  to  the 
,  woods ;  "  there  they  are  !  " 

As  he  spoke  a  dark  mass  of  blue  cavalry  appeared 
suddenly  in  the  edge  of  the  wood,  formed  line  of 
battle,  and  came  on  with  loud  cheers. 

Landon  was  ready.  I  saw  in  his  flashing  eye  the 
gaudium  certaminis,  —  that  fierce  joy  which  drives 
the  stern  soul  of  the  born  soldier  to  combat,  bracing 
his  muscle  for  the  hard  struggle. 

Drawing  up  his  men  in  the  open  field  near  the 
smoking  ruin,  Landon  placed  himself  in  front,  gave 
the  order  "  Charge  !  "  and  went  at  headlong  speed  to 
meet  the  enemy. 

The  two  lines  came  together  with  a  thundering 
clash.  In  an  instant  the  blue  and  gray  cavaliers 
were  slashing  at  each  other  furiously ;  and  Landon 
met  the  assault  upon  his  little  band  with  a  dash  and 
obstinacy  which  I  had  never  seen  in  him  before. 

All  at  once,  in  the  very  middle  of  the  mad  and 
whirling  crowd  of  horsemen,  —  amid  the  hissmg  bul- 


THE  LAST  KNOT  IN  THE  STEING.  233 


lets,  the  slashing  sabres,  and  the  trampling  hoofs,  — 
I  saw  the  white  robe  of  Miss  Adair,  and  her  proud, 
fearless  face. 

"  Look  !  they  are  coming  yonder !  "  she  ex- 
claimed, wTith  extended  arm. 

I  turned  and  saw  a  dense  column  of  Federal  cav- 
alry approaching  at  full  gallop  over  the  White  Post 
road.  They  were  at  least  a  hundred  in  number  ; 
had  been  evidently  sent  round  to  surprise  us ;  and, 
what  was  worst  of  all,  Landon,  fighting  the  other 
column,  did  not  see  them,  as  they  came  thundering 
on  to  cut  him  off. 

'(  For  Heaven's  sake,  go.  back  !  "  I  exclaimed  to 
Miss  Adair. 

And  with  three  bounds  of  my  horse  I  was  beside 
Landon. 

"Look  out!"  I  shouted,  and  I  pointed  to  the 
approaching  column. 

Landon  looked,  and  his  teeth  were  clenched.  In 
his  eye  I  saw  the  stern  glare  of  the  tiger  at  bay. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  in  his  brief  tone,  "  there  is  Rat- 
cliffe  in  front  of  them.  I  don't  intend  to  retreat. 
We  can  die  here." 

And  the  Partisan  turned  his  head  and  looked 
toward  Miss  Adair,  who  was  gazing  at  him. 

"  Good  !  "  he  said ;  "it  is  something  for  her  to  see 
me  die !  " 

And,  throwing  himself  into  the  melee  of  clashing 


234 


TEE  LAST  KNOT  IN  THE  STRING. 


sabres,  with  the  fury  of  a  wild  beast,  Landon  shouted 
to  the  Rangers  to  form  line  and  meet  the  assault  on 
their  flank. 

It  was  too  late. 

The  Federal  reinforcement  came  on  with  trium- 
phant shouts,  their  hoofs  shaking  the  ground,  and 
among  them  I  recognized  Ratcliffe. 

In  an  instant  we  were  surrounded ;  two  hundred 
men,  nearly,  were  opposed  to  twenty-five  or  thirty ; 
there  was  evidently  little  hope  of  extrication  from 
that  fatal  cordon. 

Landon  was  fighting  like  a  tiger,  in  the  midst  of 
twenty  enemies,  and  beside  him  were  Arden  and 
Touch-and-go. 

Suddenly  Arden's  horse  was  shot,  and  fell  with 
him  under  the  trampling  hoofs. 

At  the  same  moment  I  saw  Touch-and-go  totter  in 
the  saddle  and  close  his  eyes. 

I  reached  out  my  arm  to  hold  the  brave  boy  in  his 
seat,  but  a  single  glance  told  me  that  he  was  shot 
through  the  heart. 

He  fell,  half  roso,  and  then,  with  a  convulsive 
movement,  drew  from  his  pocket  the  knotted  string. 
His  fingers  twitched  at  it ;  succeeded  in  tying  a  last 
knot  in  the  string;  then  Touch-and-go  fell  back, 
with  a  childlike  smile  on  his  lips,  closed  his  eyes, 
and  expired. 

That  was  the  last  I  saw  of  the  combat. 


THE  LAST  KNOT  IN  THE  STRING.  235 


Suddenly  a  blow  from  behind  hurled  me  out  of 
the  saddle.  I  had  a  confused  idea  of  iron  hoofs 
within  a  few  inches  of  my  face ;  above  me  resounded 
shouts,  cheers,  cries  of  triumph,  mingled  with  shots 
and  sabre-strokes  ;  then  a  horse's  hoof  struck  me ;  1 
felt  the  blood  gush  over  my  eyes,  and  lost  conscious* 
mm. 


XL. 


ACROSS  A  GRAVE. 

When  I  opened  my  eyes  I  was  lying,  bruised  and 
bleeding,  beneath  a  tall  oak,  near"  and  directly  east- 
ward from  the  Old  Chapel. 

The  sun  was  near  its  setting.  The  great  orb 
glared,  like  a  huge  bloodshot  eye,  from  beneath  a 
low-hung  and  murky  cloud :  and  this  glare  —  crim- 
son and  threatening  —  lit  up  a  strange  and  tragic 
spectacle. 

Within  teii  paces  of  me,  under  a  lofty  tree,  a  grave 
had  just  been  dug.  Beside  the  grave,  with  his  arms 
tightly  bound  behind  him  by  means  of  his  red  sash, 
stood  Landon  —  and  opposite  him,  Ratcliffe.  Twen- 
ty yards  from  them  I  saw  Judge  Adair,  closely 
guarded,  and  holding  clasped  in  his  arms  the  form 
of  his  daughter,  who  had  fainted.  Over  the  slope, 
dotted  with  moss-clad  rocks,  were  scattered  the  Fed- 
eral cavalrymen,  who  had  dismounted  and  tethered 
their  horses  to  the  boughs. 

The  situation  of  affairs  could  not  be  mistaken. 
The  Night-Hawks  had  all  been  killed  or  dispersed  ; 
Landon  and  myself  taken  prisoner.  He  was  bound 

236 


ACROSS  A  GRAVE. 


237 


like  a  malefactor ;  and  it  was  probable  that,  in  retalia- 
tion  for  the  bloody  scene  of  the  morning,  we  would 
be  put  to  death  without  mercy.  Landon's  fata 
seemed  certain.  That  grave  newly  dug  seemed  i\ 
indicate  that  Ratcliffe  had  fully  determined  then  and 
there  to  put  an  end  to  his  mortal  enemy. 

I  afterwards  discovered  that  Landon  had  fought  to 
the  last,  killing  nearly  a  dozen  of  his  assailants  ;  but, 
his  horse  being  shot,  he  had  fallen  and  been  cap- 
tured, when  his  men  dispersed  and  escaped.  The 
Partisan  was  then  bound  and  brought  to  the  Old 
Chapel,  whither  Judge  Adair,  his  daughter,  and 
myself  were  also  conducted. 

My  first  glance,  upon  opening  my  eyes,  was  at 
Landon.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  cool  cour- 
age expressed  in  the  face  of  the  Partisan.  In  his 
resolute  eye  and  lip  there  was  no  emotion  whatever. 
The  stern  nerve  of  the  man  seemed  to  defy  the  at- 
tempt to  crush  him,  and  he  looked  that  death  which 
was  approaching,  in  the  face  without  the  quiver  of  a 
muscle.  I  have  seen  brave  men  id  my  time.  I 
think  this  one  was  the  bravest  of  all. 

From  Landon  my  glance  passea  to  Katcliffe.  His 
face,  habitually  ruddy,  had  ihe  sickly  hue  of  a 
corpse ;  but  in  the  snake-like  eyes  there  was  an  ex« 
pression  of  malignant  triumph  which  was  revolt- 
ing. 

As  I  awoke  to  the  consciousness  of  the  scene  pass- 


238 


ACBOSS  A  GRAVE. 


ing  before  me,  Hatcliffe  had  just  advanced  to  th« 
grave  opposite  Landon,  and  addressed  him  :  — 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  "  he  said,  in  a  hoarse  voice. 

"Iam/'  returned  Landon,  coolly. 

"  You  know  your  fate  ?  " 

"  To  be  shot,  doubtless." 

"  And  you  are  not  afraid  ?  " 

"  I  am  not." 

The  reply  seemed  to  arouse  Ratcliffe's  rage  to  the 
utmost. 

"Ah!  you  brave  me!"  he  said. 

"I  reply  to  you,"  returned  Landon. 

"  Ah !  well,  we  will  see  who  has  the  last  word 
here  !  Your  little  game  is  played,  —  is  it?  Your 
claws  are  pulled !  You  are  in  my  power  now,  and 
I  have  not  yet  decided  whether  I  will  shoot  you  or 
hang  you ! " 

Landon  turned  livid. 

"Hang  me!" 

"Yes." 

"You  dare  not!" 

Hatcliffe  laughed  savagely. 

11  What  is  to  prevent  me?  I  am  in  command 
here.  I  have  orders  from  head-quarters  to  hang 
every  guerilii  I  capture.  Do  you  think  any  ques- 
tions will  be  asked  when  I  return  and  report  that  I 
caught  and  hung  you  ?  " 

Radon's  countenance  had  recovered  its  iron  calm- 


ACROSS  A  GRAVE. 


ness.  In  face  of  this  threat,  so  terrible  to  a  soldier, 
he  seemed  as  unmoved  as  before  it  had  been  ut- 

teied. 

"True,'  he  said,  with  his  eyes  fixed  coolly  upon 
Ilatcliffe.  "  I  had  forgotten  that  your  generals  had 
become  house-burners  and  hangmen.  It  is  true  that 
I  might  have  understood  it ;  they  have  always  been 

jail-birds." 

"  Take  care,  sir !  " 

"  And  their  subordinates  are  no  better." 
Ilatcliffe  laid  his  hand  on  his  pistol,  his  eyea 

glaring. 

"  You  suit  each  other,"  continued  Landon,  in  a 
sarcastic  voice ;  "  master  and  man  !  —  workman  and 
tool !  You  cannot  beat  us ;  you  burn  houses  and 
starve  women.  That  is  called  patriotism  with  you ; 
in  other  countries  it  is  called  cowardice !  " 

Ilatcliffe  bounded  with  fury 

"  Beware  !  "  he  exclaimed,  hoarsely,  and  turning 
white  with  passion. 

" Beware  of  what?"  said  Landon,  without  mov- 
ing a  muscle  ;  "  why  not  speak  my  mind,  since  that 
is  the  only  satisfaction  that  remains  to  me  ?  You 
were  always  a  cur,  Ratcliffe,  from  the  first  moment 
that  I  knew  you.  Do  you  remember  at  Lexington 
when  I  insulted  you,  and  you  did  not  resent  it? 
How  at  West  Point,  when  your  vulgarity  had  dis- 
gusted me,  I  told  you  if  you  spoke  to  mo  again  J 


240 


ACROSS  A  GRAVE, 


would  cane  you  ?  You  sneaked  away  in  silence,  — 
courage  was  not  your  weakness,  —  and  you  are  no 
better  now,  when  you  come  with  your  ruffians  to 
burn  the  houses  of  Virginia  oyer  the  heads  of  women 
and  children  and  sick  people  ;  when  you  break  your 
parole,  sneak  off  to  avoid  meeting  me  in  honourable 
combat,  and  wreak  your  vengeance  on  a  young  lady 
who  despises  you  as  I  despise  you !  Pshaw !  my 
dear  Captain  Rateiiffe,  you  are  not  worth  contempt. 
Do  you  think  I  am  cowed ;  that  I  am  afraid 
of  you?  Undeceive  yourself.  It  is  you  who  are 
afraid  of  me,  Rateiiffe ;  and  the  proof  is  that  you 
bind  me;  "  — a  menacing  flash  of  the  eye  accom- 
panied the  words  —  "  that  you  refuse  the  proposition 
I  have  made  you  to  place  a  sword  in  my  hands,  face 
me,  and  fight  me.  No;  that  is  not  your  game. 
A  gentleman  would  do  that;  you  belong  to  the 
canaille ,  and  you  tie  your  adversary's  arms,  instead 
of  leaving  them  free. 

"  Well,  so  be  it! — act  your  character.  Come, 
make  haste  to  detail  your  squad  ;  give  your  orders. 
You  cannot  frighten  me !  There  is  one  thing  you 
cannot  do,  —  frighten  the  man  who  stands  before  you, 
bound  in  your  power.  And  you  feel  at  this  mo- 
ment —  I  see  it  in  your  eyes,  Rateiiffe  —  that,  in 
life  or  death,  St.  Leger  Landon  is  your  master  !  " 

Landon's  countenance  and  attitude  as  he  spoke 
were  full  of  a  superb  defiance.    In  his  flaming  eye 


ACROSS  A  GRAVE. 


241 


burned  a  stubborn  and  haughty  courage,  which 
nothing  seemed  able  to  affect. 

Only  once  had  the  dazzling  glance  passed  from 
the  face  of  Ratcliffe  to  the  fainting  form  of  Miss 
Adair,  and  that  glance  recalling,  as  it  did,  the  pres- 
ence of  the  young  lady,  seemed  to  drive  Ratcliffe  to 
a  wild  fury.  Words  failed  him.  Convulsed  with 
passion,  he  drew  his  pistol,  cocked  it,  and  growled, 
hoarsely :  — 

"  Have  you  finished  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Landon,  coldly. 

Ratcliffe  raised  his  pistol. 

"Good  !  "  said  Landon  ;  "  that  is  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  the  honourable  duel  I  offered  you.  You 
use  the  pistol  —  at  ten  paces  —  only  your  adversary 
is  bound,  and  cannot  return  your  cowardly  fire !  " 

Ratcliffe  let  the  weapon  fall. 

"  Fool  that  I  am,"  he  exclaimed,  "  not  to  under- 
stand the  drift  of  your  bravado,  —  to  avoid  the 
rope  !  ' '  And,  turning  suddenly  to  one  of  his  men :  — 

"  Bring  a  rope  halter  !  "  he  shouted. 

Suddenly  a  young  officer  bounded  into  the  axea 
and  advanced  straight  to  Ratcliffe.  It  was  young 
Lieutenant  Arden,  —  Harry's  brother,  —  covered 
with  sweat  and  blood,  his  lips  half  opened  and  show- 
ing the  clenched  teeth,  his  eyes  burning  in  his  white 
face. 

16 


ACBOSSA  GBAV*. 


"Stop I-  he  said,  in  a  voice  which  I  scarcely 
recognized.  "  I  protest  in  the  name  of  every  officer 
of  the  Federal  army  against  this  wanton  and  coward- 
ly murder  I " 


XLl 


arden's  badges. 

Ratcliffe  turned  like  a  tiger,  and  measured  the 
ipeaker  from  head  to  foot  with  a  glance  of  inex- 
pressible wrath  and  surprise. 

"You  dare!"  he  exclaimed;  "you  presume  to 
address  your  superiour  officer  in  that  tone  of  insub- 
ordination ?  " 

"  I  dare  to  defend  the  honour  of  the  gentlemen  of 
the  army,"  replied  Lieutenant  Arden,  in  a  voice 
quivering  with  rage.  "  I  dare  to  speak  as  I  feel, 
and  as  every  officer  here  present  feels,  and  tell  you 
that  this  is  murder,  —  cold-blooded  murder !  " 

The  words  raised  a  tumult  in  the  crowd.  For 
the  first  time  the  young  officers  attached  to  the  com- 
mand seemed  to  realize  what  was  taking  place  before 
them.  Ratcliffe  heard  that  confused  murmur  — 
glared  around  him  —  was  about  to  speak  —  when 
Lieutenant  Arden  interrupted  him. 

"  I  say  it  is  murder  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  to  hang  a 
gentleman,  —  your  prisoner,  —  as  burning  that 
house  over  a  sick  man  and  a  young  lady  was  bar- 
barous, and  opposed  to  all  the  laws  of  civilized  war* 

248 


244  ABDEWS  BADGES. 

fare  !  I  protested  against  that  act.  I  warned  you$ 
Captain  Ratcliffe,  that  von  were  dishonouring  the 
flag.  I  proceeded  to  tne  point-  of  insubordination  in 
refusing  to  command  th~.  party,  and  now  I  do  not 
shrink  from  more.  —  froai  mutiny,  if  you  like  the 
word.  —  only  be  sure  of  one  thing,  that  I  will  not 
be  shot  down  or  hanged  like  a  dog  !  If  I  die,  I  will 
not  die  alone  !  " 

And  Arden  laid  a  furious  hand  on  his  pistol. 

Ratcliffe  shrunk  back,  recoiling  from  the  hot  eyeg 
and  the  threatening  gesture. 

"  Come,  arrest  me  !  try  me  !  glut  your  thirst  for 
murder!"  exclaimed  Arden.  "  I  know  you,  and  I 
know  the  danger  I  am  running  if  my  brother  officers 
keep  silent  and  permit  you  to  outrage  me  !  I  expect 
to  be  arrested,  to  be  tried  for  insubordination ;  but 
before  I  give  up  my  sword  you  shall  hear  me  !  V 

And.  advancing  two  steps,  xlrden  went  on  with 
concentrated  passion  :  — 

u  I  entered  the  army  of  the  United  States  to  make 
war  on  men.  My  aim  was  to  help  to  crush  the  rebel- 
lion. I  meant  to  assist  in  doing  so  by  honourable 
warfare,  not  by  \  base  and  cowardly  war  on  women 
and  children.  In  the  army  the  gentlemen  thought 
as  I  thought ;  they  accepted  commissions,  shed  their 
blood,  fought  bravely,  and  died  bravely,  to  restore 
the  old  Union  of  Washington.  They  did  not  mean 
to  burn  houses  over  women,  and  hang  prisoner* 


ARDEN'S  BADGES. 


245 


They  did  not  mean  to  make  the  flag  which  they 
fought  under  a  by-word.  They  did  not  mean  to 
have  '  house-burner/  and  hangman/  and  1  mur- 
derer,' stuck  on  to  tbei*  raines;  and  my  name,  I 
swear,  shall  not  be  dieftoaeurfcd  !  ' ' 

As  ho  uttered  these  fiwious  words,  the  young  man 
unbuckled  his  belt  and  ttnew  his  sabre  at  the  feet  of 
Ratcliffe.  It  fell  with  a  ringing  clash;  and  Arden 
exclaimed  :  — 

"  Take  my  sword  !  I  wiU  never  more  draw  it  in 
x  cause  that  is  disgraced  by  such  men  as  yourself, 
and  by  such  acts  as  I  have  witnessed  to-day  !  Take 
my  commission  !  " 

And,  drawing  a  paper  from  his  breast,  he  threw  it 
contemptuously  from  him. 

u  Take  my  badges  of  rank  ! " 

And,  violently  tearing  from  his  shoulders  his  lieu- 
tenant's straps,  he  hurled  them  to  the  ground,  and 
placed  his  heel  upon  them. 

"That  commission,"  he  exclaimed,  u  is  a  dishon- 
our !  These  badges  would  burn  my  shoulders  if  I 
wore  them  longer.  I  throw  them  down,  and  trample 
on  them,  and  scorn  them,  as  I  scorn  that  flag  yonder, 
that  for  three  years  I  have  fought  under.  It  is  no 
longer  my  flag.  I  renounce  it,  and  will  never  more 
fight  for  it.  Now,  arrest,  try,  murder  me,  if  you 
vrill.    At  least  you  cannot  dishonour  me." 


XLIL 


"  COWARD  !  CO"F\RD  !  COWARD  ! n 

Suddenly  the  deap  voice  of  Landon  was  heard 
amid  the  silence. 

"  Dishonour  you,  — that  person  ?  "  he  said,  looking 
at  Ratcliffe.  "  You  are  jesting,  my  dear  lieutenant. 
He  can  dishonour  nobody.'"' 

And,  turning  to  the  group  of  young  officers 
who  were  near :  — 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  Federal  army,"  said  the  Par- 
tisan, with  his  cool,  defiant  smile,  "I  really  have 
some  curiosity  to  ascertain  one  thing,  —  whether  you 
suspect  the  real  character  of  this  Ratcliffe  ?  Shall  I 
enlighten  your  ignorance,  tell  you  all  about  him, 
messieurs,  in  a  very  few  words  ?  Well,  your  com- 
mander is  a  sneak,  a  poltroon;  he  betrayed  his 
friend  first ;  then  he  broke  his  parole  when  I,  that 
friend  whom  he  had  tricked,  captured  and  released 
him  that  he  might  fight  me  1  " 

' '  Impossible  ! ' '  exclaimed  the  young  officers. 

"It  is  the  truth!  Look  at  his  face!  Let  him 
dare  to  deny  it !  " 

And  Landon  fixed  his  steady  gaze  upon  Ratcliffe 

246 


"COW AUDI  COWARD!  COW  AUDI"  247 


The  response  of  that  p  jrsonage  was  to  raise  his 
pistol. 

"  See  !"  said  Landon  coolly;  'that  is  his  replv 
to  me  ;  the  reply  of  a  po  t^ooi:,  is  it  not?  I  am  a 
West  Pointer  like  hims*,.  f,  hue  yourselves,  —  and  I 
have  some  of  the  esprit  J  i  'vms  still  left ;  well.  I 
am  ashamed  of  that  cr8..t/A*e,  for  he  dishonours  not 
only  the  uniform  he  now  wears,  but  that  which  I 
once  wore  when  we  were  cadets." 

The  young  Federal  officers  uttered  a  murmur. 
One  of  them  stepped  forth  from  the  rest. 

"  Captain  Ratcliffe,"  he  said,  "  I  have  no  right  to 
question  you,  but  you  must  be  aware  that  these 
charges  affect  the  honour  of  the  officers  of  the  Fed- 
eral army  in  your  person." 

Ratcliffe  scowled  at  the  speaker  with  an  expression 
of  bitter  menace ;  but  it  was  easy  to  see  that  all  the 
rest  agreed  with  the  young  officer. 

"  It  is  a  lie  !  "  cried  Ratcliffe5  hoarsely. 

"What  is  a  lie?"  said  Landon,  coolly;  "that 
you  made  my  acquaintance  and  fawned  on  me  at 
Lexington  ?  —  that  I  introduced  you  into  society  in 
the  Valley  ?  —  that  you  were  a  guest  in  ray  house, 
my  associate  and  friend,  and  yet  paid  your  addresses 
to  the  young  lady  who  was  affianced  to  me  ?  Is  that 
a  lie,  sir?  Deny  it,  and  the  young  lady  is  yonder, 
your  prisoner,  ready  to  speak.  But  I  have  not  fin- 
ished, I  swear  to  you !    Is  it  a  lie,  that  wbt;n  you 


248        * 4  CO  WAIW  !  CO  WA  JRD  !  CO  WA IW /  * 

came  to  hate  and  fear  me  at  West  Point,  you  wrote 
anonymous  letters  blackening  my  character;  stole 
my  engagement  ring  from  my  finger  whilst  I  was 
asleep  in  your  quarters,  and,  sending  it  to  the  lady 
destroyed  ray  happiness  by  that  cowardly  tieachery  f 
Ah,  your  face  is  pale  !  You  shrink  !  You  are  sur- 
prised that  I  know  that !  It  is  not  a  lie,  then,  any 
more  tban  the  statement  that  I  captured  you  the 
other  day ;  paroled  you  to  fight  me ;  and  that  you 
broke  that  parole,  and  escaped  like  a  coward.  An- 
swer !  Did  you,  or  did  you  not,  break  your  parole 
and  thus  dishonour  your  uniform  ?  Dare  to  say  that 
you  did  not,  and  I  will  appeal  to  the  brave  officer 
who  was  to  have  acted  as  your  second,  Lieutenant 
Arden." 

And  Landon  pointed  to  Arden,  who  was  standing 
pale,  disdainful,  and  with  folded  arms,  in  the  centre 
of  the  group. 

"It  is  true,"  he  said;  "Captain  Ratcliffe  broke 
his  parole." 

The  Federal  officers  had  gathered  around  the  two 
foes,  facing  each  othei.  At  those  words  from  Arden, 
they  drew  back  from  RatclifFe,  who  was  thus  left 
standing  alone,  avoided  by  all. 

Landon's  lip  curled  elaborately  and  with  an  un- 
speakable expression  of  scorn.  S'owly  moving  his 
head  in  the  direction  of  Ratcliffe .  — 

"  Look  !  "  he  said  ;  "  he  is  afraid  of  me,  bound  as 


«•  C0WABD1  C0WABD1  COWABE  ,  »  249 


lam.  That  is  becoming — is  it  not,  gentlemen? — in 
one  wearing  jour  blue  uniform,  and  holding  a  com- 
mission under  jour  Stars  and  Stripes.'' 

A  hoarse  murmur  from  the  group  of  officers 
greeted  these  disdainful  words. 

"I  find  that  strange,  gentlemen,"  said  Landon, 
with  his  defiant  smile,  "  and  realize  with  difficulty 
that  jou  tolerate  such  people.  For,  do  not  think, 
messieurs,  that  in  the  Southern  armj  we  rate  jou  as 
'mud-sills'  and  low  people.  I  have  alwajs  scorned 
to  make  out  our  enemies  mere  ruffians  and  cowards ; 

—  cowards  !  where  were  the  merit  of  whipping  jou 
were  jou  such  ?  But  such  men  as  this  friend  of 
ours  " —  and  he  indicated  Ratcliffe  with  the  same  dis- 
dainful movement  of  the  head  —  "  are  apt  to  produce 
the  impression  that  jour  militaires  are  not  exactij 
what  General  Hooker  calls  them,  '  immenselj  supe- 
rior, intellectually  and  phjsicallj,'  to  the  Southern- 
ers. When  did  a  Southern  officer  break  his  parole 
and  sneak  from  a  fair  combat  ?  When  did  a  South- 
ern officer  trick  his  friend,  and  forge,  and  lie  ? 
There  is  the  man  who  has  done  all  this,  and  he 
wears  jour  blue  uniform.    In  ten  minutes  —  or  so 

—  he  is  going  to  shoot  me,  with  mj  hands  bound 
behind  me,  unarmed,  because  he  is  afraid  of  me.  and 
knows  that  mj  death  alone  will  preserve  hoi  from 
personal  chastisement." 

Ratcliffe  shuddered  with  rage,  and  the  second 


250         "COWARD!  COWARD/  COWARD!" 


time  the  trigger  of  his  pistol  clicked  as  he  cocked  it 
a  second  time  the  weapon  was  directed  at  Landon. 

' £  Look  !  the  Partisan  said,  with  his  short,  harsh 
laugh;  "this  model  United  States  officer  is  going  to 
shoot  his  disarmed  enemy ;  and  in  all  this  company 
of  Federal  officers,  West  Pointers,  there  is  not  one 
to  even  remonstrate." 

"  You  are  wrong  !  "  said  Arden,  bounding  forward. 
And,  facing  Ratcliffe,  with  inexpressible  scorn  in 
his  face,  he  said  :  — 

"  You  attempted  to  dishonour  me  by  Lreaking 
your  parole  yonder !  You  dishonour  the  United 
States  flag  by  your  cowardly  cruelty  here  !  Well, 
end  all  at  once  !  Shoot  me  as  well  as  your  prisoner  ! 
You  have  shed  my  brother's  blood ;  you  have  dis- 
graced a  noble  cause  !  Life  is  no  longer  supportable 
to  me ;  come,  order  me  to  be  shot !  But,  before  you 
do  so,  you  cannot  prevent  me  from  branding  you,  in 
the  name  of  the  officers  of  this  army,  as  coward ! 
coward  !  coward  !  " 

And,  advancing  a  step  at  each  repetition  of  the 
word  "coward,"  Arden  drew  off  his  gauntlet,  and 
was  about  to  slap  Ratcliffe  in  the  face,  when  suddenly 
an  event  occurred  which  put  an  abrupt  end  to  the 
scene. 


XLWL 


NEMESIS. 

Auden  had  scarcely  uttered  these  words,  full  ot 
vehement  passion  and  scorn ,  when  a  shot  resounded 
from  the  direction  of  the  river. 

At  that  ominous  sound  every  head  turned ;  every 
ear  listened. 

Suddenly  a  shout  was  heard;  a  man  came  over 
the  crest  at  full  gallop,  and,  darting  into  the  midst 
of  the  cavalry  men,  cried  :  — 

•'Look  out !  the  enemy  are  upon  you  !  " 

Ratcliffe's  expression  at  that  instant  defied  descrip- 
tion. Never  have  I  seen  rage,  hatred,  and  disappoint- 
ment more  vividly  depicted  upon  the  human  coun- 
tenance. In  his  eye  was  the  savage  glare  of  the 
wolf,  forced  to  relinquish  the  prey  which  he  holds  be- 
tween his  teeth,  and  driven  to  bay  by  the  huntsman. 

By  an  instinctive  movement,  he  made  two  steps 
toward  his  horse.    Then  his  eye  fell  upon  Landon, 
and  he  returned  toward  the  grave  with  a  bound 
shouting : — 

"  The  rope !  " 

But  the  man  whom  he  had  ordered  to  bring  it 

251 


2  "2 


NEMESIS. 


had  hastened  to  mount  bis  horse,  and  Ratcliffe  san 
that  it  was  too  late. 

Beyond  the  crest  already  resounded  the  trampling 
of  hoofs,  the*  shouts  of  nun  evidently  coming  on  at 
fall  gallop,  and  the  crack  of  carbines  as  the  assail- 
ants drove  all  before  them. 

"  To  horse  !  "  shouted  It-  teliffe.  Then  he  turned 
to  Landon. 

"  You  are  going  to  be  rescued,  you  think,  "  he 
cried,  hoarsely.       You  are  wrong." 

And.  drawing  his  pistol,  he  aimed  at  Landon,  and 
drew  the  trigger. 

The  weapon  snapped,  and  Ratcliffe  uttered  a  loud 
curse.  Then,  before  he  could  again  cock  the  weapon, 
I  witnessed  a  spectacle  which  made  the  blood  leap 
fiercely  in  my  veins. 

Landon,  whose  hands  were  still  confined  by  the 
red  sash  behind  him,  cleared  the  grave  at  one  bound, 
*hrew  himself  upon  Ratcliffe,  and  caught  him  by  the 
throat  with  his  teeth 

The  assault  was  so  sudden  that  Ratcliffe  could 
not  defend  himself.  The  teeth  of  the  Partisan  were 
buried  in  the  flesh,  to  which  they  clung  witli  the  te- 
nacity of  a  bloodhound. 

Half  strangled,  with  the  blood  spouting,  with 
Landon' s  weight  on  his  breast.  Ratcliffe  staggered, 
uttered  a  low  cry,  and  fell  at  full  '.ength  on  the 
ground  beneath  his  adversary. 


NEMESIS. 


253 


Then  a  ferocious  struggle  took  place  between  tht 
two  mortal  enemies,  who,  losing  sight  apparently  of 
all  else,  concentrated  all  their  energies  upon  the 
conflict  in  which  they  were  personally  en  gaged. 

Ratcliffe  vainly  attempted  to  tear  Landon  frotn 
his  throat.  The  furious  teeth  still  clung  to  the 
mangled  and  bleeding  flesh  ;  a  foam  of  blood  encir- 
cled the  lips  of  the  Partisan  as  he  bit  deeper  and 
deeper  ;  and  from  Hatcliffe's  lips  escaped  a  hoarse  and 
inarticulate  cry,  which  had  in  it  scarcely  anything 
that  was  human. 

It  was  lost  in  a  great  uproar,  which  suddenly  filled 
the  air.  Over  the  crest  of  the  hill,  from  ihe  direc- 
tion of  the  Shenandoah,  a  band  of  Partisans  appeared, 
—  coming  on  at  full  gallop,  and  firing  volleys  at  the 
Federal  cavalrymen,  who  mounted  their  horses  in 
hot  haste.  In  an  instant  the  grassy  slope  became 
the  scene  of  a  furious  combat,  —  a  chaos  of  smoke, 
dust,  and  blood,  above  which  rose  yells,  clashing 
sabres,  and  the  quick  trample  of  hoofs. 

At  the  head  of  the  assailants,  with  drawn  sabre 
and  glowing  cheeks,  rode  Blount.  Beside  him 
was  Antoinette  Duvarny,  who,  escaping,  as  I  after- 
wards heard,  from  her  guard  at  "Bizarre,"  had  ar- 
rived at  the  Chapel  just  as  Landon;s  men  were 
dispersed,  hastened  to  find  Captain  Blount,  who 
she  heard  was  near  the  river,  and  now  rode  at  hk 
side  in  the  charge  upon  her  former  comrades.  Of 


254 


NEMESIS. 


that  strange  meeting  with  him  whose  heart  she  had 
broken,  I  never  heard  any  details. 

The  wild  clash  of  arms  for  a  moment  diverted  my 
attention  from  Landon  and  Ratcliffe.  The  furious 
struggle  of  the  enemies  now  absorbed  me,  and  I  lost 
sight  of  all  else. 

Stretched  at  full  length  beneath  his  adversary, 
Ratcliffe  vainly  attempted  to  shake  off  the  mortal 
incubus. 

"Help  !  "  I  heard  him  mutter,  as  Landon' s  teeth 
dug  deeper  into  his  streaming  throat.  But  his  cry 
was  unheard ;  in  the  wild  melee  he  was  not  seen,  or 
his  fate  was  uncared  for. 

I  saw  on  the  dark  face  the  sickly  hue  of  despair. 
The  lips  were  convulsed,  the  eyes  protruded ;  the 
countenance  of  the  Federal  captain  resembled  a  hid 
eous  mask  rather  than  the  face  of  a  human  being. 

His  hands  clutched  madly  at  the  grass,  which  he 
tore  up  by  handfuls.  Writhing  to  and  fro,  dragging 
each  other  like  wild  animals,  the  bitter  foes  ap- 
proached, foot  by  foot,  the  brink  of  the  newly-dug 
grave,  into  which  it  seemed  probable  that  they  would 
fall,  still  locked  in  that  deadly  embrace. 

All  at  once  Ratcliffe  uttered  a  cry  of  fierce  satis- 
faction. His  hand  had  fallen  upon  the  pistol  which 
he  had  dropped  when  Landon  sprung  upon  him, 
and  I  saw  him  cock  it  and  place  the  muzzle  upon  his 
adversary's  breast. 


NEMESIS. 


255 


I  rose  arid  staggered  toward  them.    Then  the 
5lood  rushed  over  my  face,  and  I  fell  forward. 
A  report  followed. 

I  opened  my  eyes,  looked  toward  the  adversaries, 
and  saw  Landon  fall  back,  pale  and  covered  with 
blood. 

Ratcliffe  had  risen  to  his  feet. 

I  shdl  never  forget  the  agony  of  that  moment,  or 
the  appearance  of  Ratcliffe.  As  pale  as  a  corpse, 
his  breast  shaking,  his  throat  bleeding,  he  glanced  al 
Landon  with  an  expression  of  diabolical  triumph. 

Then  he  threw  a  glance  around  him.    That  glancr 
revealed  everything.    His  men  were  breaking  in  thi 
wildest  disorder,  and  the  Partisans  were  pursuing; 
their  flying  adversaries  in  every  direction,  firing  up 
on  them,  or  cutting  them  down  with  the  sabre. 

Ratcliffe  saw  that  all  was  lost ;  that  his  situatioc 
was  desperate,  his  capture  imminent;  and  he  stag 
gered  toward  a  riderless  horse,  passing  at  the  mo 
ment,  the  bridle  of  which  he  caught. 

His  foot  was  in  the  stirrup  when  a  loud  exclama 
tion  escaped  from  his  lips. 

Coming  to  meet  him,  and,  staggering  like  himseli . 
I  saw  Captain  Blount.  His  face  was  white,  and 
his  breast  bleeding.  In  his  right  hand  he  held  » 
cocked  pistol. 

"  We  have  met  at  last !  "  he  said,  faintly. 

"  Blount !  "  Ratcliffe  cried,  hoarsely. 


256 


NEMESIS. 


"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  captain  of  Partisans,  in  A 
taw  but  deliberate  voice  ;  ' £  the  gentleman  whom  jour 
baseness  ruined." 

"  I  surrender  !  " 

"  It  is  too  late,  sir." 

Ratcliffe  recoiled  before  the  pale  and  threatening 
face.  Exerting  all  his  remaining  strength,  he  threw 
himself  into  the  saddle,  and  dug  the  spur  into  the 
side  of  his  animal. 

Blount  did  not  rush  upon  him  as  I  expected. 
A  strange  smile  came  to  his  white  face,  and  he  re- 
mained as  motionless  as  a  statue. 

"I  am  —  dying  —  "  he  murmured ;  u  but  — 
we  will —  go  —  together." 

And,  raising  his  pistol,  he  took  deliberate  aim,  and 
fired.  As  the  smoke  drifted,  I  saw  that  Blount 
had  concentrated  for  this  last  act  his  whole  remain- 
ing strength ;  the  pistol  dropped  from  his  grasp,  and 
he  fell  forward,  dead. 

Ratcliffe  had  uttered  a  wild  cry,  and  I  saw  his 
hand  go  to  his  breast,  from  which  the  blood  spouted. 
He  was  still  able,  however,  to  retain  his  seat  in  the 
saddle,  and  the  speed  of  his  horse  was  such  that  he 
would  probably  have  escaped,  had  it  not  been  for  an 
incident  which  resembled  fatality. 

As  long  as  the  flying  animal  continued  his  straight 
course,  the  Federal  officer  was  evidently  strong 
enough  to  retain  his  seat  in  the  saddle. 


NEMESIS. 


257 


Suddenly,  however,  a  bleeding  body  interposed 
itself  directly  in  his  path.  The  horse  snorted,  and 
shied  ;  and  the  movement  decided  the  fate  of  Hat- 
cliffe. 

He  was  thrown>  and  his  head  struck  violently 
against  a  ledge  of  rock.  He  rose,  his  face  covered 
with  blood,  his  hands  clutching  at  the  air ;  then  fal- 
ling to  the  earth,  he  writhed  for  a  moment,  and  expired. 

As  he  uttered  his  last  groan  the  bleeding  body 
which  had  made  his  horse  shy,  writhed,  half-erect, 
I  recognized  Antoinette  Duvarny  and  saw  a  strange 
smile  upon  her  features.  A  moment  afterwards  her 
head  drooped,  and  she  was  dead. 

All  this  had  passed  in  a  few  seconds.  The  death 
of  Blount,  and  the  singular  end  of  Ratclifie, 
through  the  instrumentality  of  the  woman  so  deeply 
wronged  by  him,  had  riveted  my  whole  attention, 
but  now,  all  at  once,  the  fate  of  Landon  became  my 
absorbing  thought. 

In  this  whirlpool  of  death  was  he  also  to  disappear  ? 
Was  his  wound  a  mortal  one  ?  I  rose  and  staggered 
toward  him. 

As  I  did  so,  I  felt  my  head  grow  dizzy,  and  some- 
thing in  my  throat  seemed  to  choke  me.  Reeling  to 
him,  I  caught  his  body  in  my  arms,  murmured 
"  Landon  !  "  —  I  could  say  no  more,  —  and  fell,  life- 
less almost,  beside  him. 

My  voice  seemed  to  recall  him  from  the  ver^ 

17 


258 


VEMESJ8. 


gates  of  death.    His  eyes  opened  faintly,  and  h® 
looked  at  me  with  that  vacant  expression  which 
sends  a  pang  through  the  heart. 
:  1  Landon  !  "  I  repeated. 

But  he  did  not  seem  to  hear  me.  His  pale  cheeks 
had  suddenly  flushed,  his  dull  eyes  had  grown  bril- 
liant ;  with  a  face  glowing  all  over  with  an  expres- 
sion of  heroic  tenderness,  he  stretched  his  arms 
faintly  toward  some  one  behind  me. 

"  Oh,  no!  "  he  murmured,  smiling;  "I  am  not 
going  to  die  now." 

A  low  sob  replied  to  him ;  a  light  and  hurried  step 
approached ;  a  moment  afterwards  Landon' s  form  was 
encircled  by  the  arm  of  Ellen  Adair,  and  his  bead 
had  fallen  upm  her  bosom. 


EPILOGUE, 


THE  BLUE  COURIER. 


In  the  summer  of  1865,  after  Lee's  surrender,  1 
paid  a  visit  to  my  friend,  Colonel  Beverley,  at  his 
estate  of  "  The  Oaks,"  in  Fauquier. 

I  hope  the  worthy  reader  will  not  regard  the  tran- 
sition from  1864  to  1865,  and  from  the  fierce  drama 
at  the  Old  Chapel  to  the  quiet  scenes  of  peaceful 
days,  as  too  abrupt. 

You  saw  —  did  you  not,  my  dear  reader  ?  —  that 
the  drama  ended  yonder  on  that  grassy  slope  near 
the  willows  of  the  old  graveyard ;  that  any  further 
scenes,  when  the  fifth  act  had  ended,  would  be  super- 
fluous, and  appear  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable  ?  Be- 
lieve me,  there  are  few  things  more  "  fatal "  than  a 
real  drama.  Do  you  wish  to  stop  ?  —  it  drags  you ! 
Do  you  wish  to  go  beyond  the  limit  ?  —  it  holds  you 
back !  When  Macbeth  is  dead,  the  play  ends,  you 
see  ;  and  there  is  very  little  to  interest  when  Richard 
ha?  carried  awny  bis  hump  into  oblivion. 


THE  BLUE  COUEIEB. 


So  the  drama  tyrannizes,  but  there  is  the  friendly 
and  more  obliging  Epilogue  Let  us  parody  Sancho 
Panza,  and  say,  4  4  Blessed  is  the  man  who  invented 
the  Epilogue,  —  for  therein  may  be  collected  all  the 
personages  and  events  which  Lave  been  dismissed  too 
unceremoniously  in  the  drama  !  r; 

I  am  going,  therefore,  worthy  reader,  to  tell  you 
a  little  more  about  our  friends  the  Night- Hawks  and 
their  chief ;  and,  as  I  have  narrated  in  the  preceding 
sheets  only  what  I  witnessed  or  heard.  I  will  contin- 
ue to  do  so  in  these  concluding  pages. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  April,  1865,  then, 
when,  having  traversed  the  same  road  from  the 
Rapidan  northward,  which  I  had  passed  over  in 
September.  1864,  I  found  myself — a  prisoner  on 
parole,  with  two  horses,  and  the  grand  privilege  of 
remaining  unmolested  —  at  "The  Oaks  ! in  the 
county  of  Fauquier. 

I  am  not  going  to  dwell  upon  the  old  homestead 
and  the  kind  hearts  there.  "Would  you  know  all  ■ 
about  them?  You  have  only  to  read  my  Memoirs. 
Many  scenes  of  that  volume  occur  at  "  The  Oaks.'' 
There  I  fir^t  met.  a  young  lady,  who  is  looking  over 
my  shoulder  now  as  I  write:  ard  it  was  this  face 
which  I  went  thither  to  see  after  Appomattox  Court 
House,  even  before  I  came  hither  to  ,;  Eagle's  XestJ' 
on  the  Rappahannock. 

Observe  how  I  try  to  find  an  excuse  to  tarry  at 


THE  BLUE  COUBIEB. 


261 


"  The  Oaks !  "  'Tis  a  charming  place,  and  the  sun 
seems  to  shine  brighter  there  than  elsewhere  in  the 
world.  But  I  must  come  back  to  the  personages 
who  have  played  parts  in  this  fierce  episode  of  my 
Memoirs. 

My  acquaintance  with  Landon  —  did  you  fancy 
him  dead  of  his  wound,  reader  ?  —  was  renewed  in  a 
manner  the  most  simple. 

One  morning  a  courier,  dressed  in  blue,  came  to 
"  The  Oaks,"  with  a  note  from  the  Federal  officer  com- 
manding just  over  the  ridge.  Would  I  oblige  him 
by  repairing  on  the  next  morning,  if  convenient,  to 
Millwood  ?  He  was  anxious  to  obtain  from  me,  as 
an  officer  from  General  Lee's  head-quarters,  details 
relating  to  the  precise  manner  in  which  General 
Grant  had  paroled  the  Confederate  forces ;  the  work 
in  hand  being  to  parole  the  Partisans  of  the  Shenan- 
doah. 

My  blue  friend  —  how  familiar  and  like  "old 
times  "  already,  he  looked  !  — was  exceedingly  def- 
erential, and  waited,  with  his  hand  to  his  cap,  for  a 
reply.  I  wrote  it ;  he  saluted  and  disappeared.  On 
the  next  morning  I  mounted  my  horse  and  set  out 
for  Ashby's  Gap. 

This  time  there  were  no  Confederates  on  the  fence 
of  the  old  tavern  at  Paris  —  no  videites  at  the  ford 
of  the  Shenandoah  —  no  Night-Hawks  or  blue  peo- 
ple on  picket  anywhere. 


THE  BLUE  COXmiEB. 


But  a  mile  further  I  3aw  them ;  and  in  the  streets 
of  Millwood  were  my  old  friends  of  the  night,  min- 
gling with  Federal  cavalrymen  in  charming  fellow- 
ship. They  were  laughing,  joking,  and  jesting  at 
each  othw  ;  and  at  the  head  of  the  Night-Hawks  waa 


MY  LAST  LOOK  AT  THE  BED-CROSS  FLAG, 

The  Partisan  greeted  me  with  cordial  warmth, 
and  introduced  me  to  the  commander  of  the  Federal 
forces,  with  whom  I  proceeded  to  converse  upon  the 
business  which  had  brought  me. 

"  We  have  agreed  on  a  truce  till  twelve  to-day/ ' 
said  Landon,  when  I  had  finished,  "  and  if  by  that 
time  we  do  not  settle  terms  of  surrender,  I  am  to  go 
with  my  Night-Hawks  to  open  the  war  again." 

"You  shall  not  be  forced  to  do  that,  captain," 
said  the  Federal  officer,  whose  tone  was  perfectly 
courteous. 

And  the  negotiations  commenced. 

At  twelve  they  were  not  concluded,  and  Landon 
mounted  his  horse. 

"Form  column !"  he  said  to  his  men,  "and 
unroll  the  flag!" 

At  the  word  the  Night-Hawks  sprung  to  horse, 
and  the  red  battle-flag  of  the  Confederacy  floated 
proudly  in  the  wind. 

Never  shall  I  forget  my  feelings  as  I  saw  that 
banner  again  given  to  the  air !  I  had  seen  it  furled 

233 


264  MY  LAST  LOOK  AT  TEE  FLAG. 


on  the  Appomattox ;  I  now  saw  it  unrolled  again  on 
the  Shenandoah  !  My  heart  throbbed,  and  my  hand 
went  to  my  side,  feeling  for  the  sabre. 

Alas !  there  was  none  there.  But  I  went  and 
"  fell  in  "  by  Landon. 

The  Federal  cavalry  had  sprung  to  horse  at  the 
moment  when  Landon  mounted.  The  men  in  blue 
and  gray,  but  a  moment  before  jesting  with  each 
other,  laid  their  hands  upon  their  sword-hilts. 

For  the  last  time  I  saw  the  gray  ranks  face  the 
blue  in  line  of  battle  ;  for  the  last  time  the  red-cross 
flag  flaunt  proudly  in  the  face  of  the  Stars  and 
Stripes ! 

"Forward!  "  trembled  on  Landon' s  lips,  and  his 
eye  flashed. 

What  would  have  happened,  I  know  not;  but 
at  that  moment  hoof-strokes  were  heard  upon  the 
turnpike ;  a  courier  came  at  full  gallop  from  the  di- 
rection of  Winchester ;  and  the  next  instant  the  Fed- 
eral oflicer  in  command  was  reading  a  dispatch. 

As  he  finished,  he  bowed  to  Landon,  and  said  :  — 

"  I  am  glad  to  inform  you,  captain,  that  General 
Hancock  has  extended  the  truce  until  sunset  this 
evening,  and  the  Partisan  troops  are  placed  upon  the 
game  footing  as  General  Lee's  army.  They  will  be 
paroled  on  the  same  terms." 

Landon  bowed  gloomily. 


MY  LAST  LOOK  AT  THE  FLAG.  £65 

n  I  accept  the  terms  of  parole  for  my  command,^ 
he  said. 

And,  breaking  ranks  by  his  order, the  men  formally 
surrendered  and  were  paroled,  retaining  their  horses 
and  side-arms. 

Then,  without  word,  they  mounted  and  formed  line. 
All  eyes  were  turned  to  Landon ;  it  was  plain  that 
they  were  waiting  for  his  last  words  to  them. 

He  spurred  forward,  his  head  erect,  his  eye  flash- 
ing, his  keen  glance  running  along  the  line,  as 
though  to  see  that  it  was  "  dressed." 

Then,  removing  his  hat,  he  spoke. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  repeat  his  words.  I  could 
do  so,  for  they  thrilled  through  me.  Again  my  heart 
throbbed  hotly.  I  recall  every  word,  every  accent, 
and  every  expression  of  the  face  of  the  Partisan. 

As  he  spoke,  the  rough  Bangers  stirred  and  mur- 
mured. With  flushed  faces  and  flashing  eyes,  they 
seemed  to  go  back  and  live  over  the  glorious  days 
when  they  chased  the  very  blue  horsemen  now  before 
them. 

Landon  ended  his  brief  and  fiery  address  in  a  few 
minutes.  Then,  turning  with  an  electric  gesture  to- 
ward the  red  flag  which  one  of  the  men  had  seized 
and  unrolled,  he  drew  his  sword,  and  said  in  his  deep, 
proud  voice :  — 

"  I  salute  the  flag  which  history  will  salute  for- 
ever ! " 


266         MY  LAST  LC  OK  AT  THE  FLAG. 


A  whirl  of  the  arm  —  the  sabre  at  a  salute,  in 
which  the  whole  band  imitated  him  —  a  burst  of 
cheers  —  and  the  Night-Hawks  looked  at  Landon. 

"  Break  ranks !  "  he  said. 

And,  as  he  spurred  into  their  midst,  the  men  seized 
his  hand,  his  coat,  and  seemed  utterly  unable  to  con- 
trol the  wild  sobs  that  burst  from  them. 

In  another  instant  the  Partisan  had  made  me  a 
•ign,  and  we  were  proceeding  at  a  full  gallop  toward 
"Biaarre." 


m. 


US  ARMS  TO  THE  LAST 

I  saw  that  Landon's  emotion  was  nearly  choking 
him,  and  did  not  utter  a  word. 

We  passed  on  rapidly,  entered  the  forest,  swept 
along  beneath  the  great  oaks,  and  suddenly  came  in 
sight  of  "  Bizarre." 

Then,  as  we  approached,  I  saw  all  at  once  the 
gleam  of  a  robe  at  the  great  gate.  A  form  hastened 
to  meet  us,  the  sweet  eyes  full  of  tears.  Landon 
sprung  from  his  horse,  and  catching  the  young  lady 
in  his  arms,  allowed  his  head  to  fall  upon  her  shoulder. 

"I  have  surrendered!"  he  said,  hoarsely.  "I 
was  obliged  to,  on  my  men's  account." 

And  for  the  first  time  a  fiery  tear  dimmed  his  eye. 

"  It  is  hard,  —  is  it  not,  colonel  ?  "  he  said  with 
his  proud  head  raised,  and  a  faint  smile  upon  his 
lips ;  "  it  makes  children  of  us  old  soldiers !  " 

Then,  taking  the  lady's  hand  he  held  it  out  to  me 
and  said :  — 

"  You  know  Mrs.  Landon !  " 

It  was  Ellen  Adair's  bright  eyes  which  looked  at 
me,  her  warm  hand  which  pressed  mine,  hei  smiling 

867 


268 


IN  ARMS  TO  THE  LAST. 


lips  which  greeted  me  ;  and  we  walked  en,  in  pleas- 
ant talk,  to  the  old  mansion 

"  Bizarre"  was  still  "  torn  down  "  and  war-worn  in 
appearance,  —  but  all  our  Virginia  homes  were  thus 
in  '65.  The  old  mansion  seemed  to  smile  upon  us, 
nevertheless,  as  we  approached ;  the  great  door  stood 
hospitably  open.  As  we  entered  the  hall,  the  old  por- 
traits, in  lace  and  powder,  on  the  dim  canvas, 
seemed  to  smile,  but  not  so  brightly  as  the  lovely  face 
of  Ellen  Adair,  as  I  will  still  call  her,  who  was  beside 
me. 

Then,  all  at  once,  there  came  out  of  the  parlour  to 
meet  us,  a  charming  maiden  of  seventeen  or  eighteen, 
who  approached  and  gave  me  her  hand.  It  was  Miss 
Annie  Meadows,  full  of  smiles  and  blushes,  and  be- 
hind her  came,  limping,  and  leaning  on  his  brother 
Ralph,  no  less  a  personage  than  my  dear  Harry 
Arden. 

So  you  see,  reader,  nobody  that  was  worth  living 
was  dead,  except  the  noble  Blount  and  the  brave 
Touch-and-go.  And  even  they — they  sleep,  but 
are  not  dead ! 

Harry  Arden  had  been  desperately  wounded,  but 
was  brought  with  Landon  after  the  fight  to  "Bizarre," 
where  I  left  them  to  return  to  Petersburg.  Landon 
had  soon  recovered,  and  had  been  married  for  a 
month.  Harry  was  nearly  well ;  and  it  was  plain 
that "  Annie  "  had  been  "  thinking  "  a  great  deal  of 


m  ARMS  TO  THE  LAST. 


269 


him,  and  was  soon  going  to  become  Mrs.  Arden 
As  to  Ralph,  he  had  never  again  entered  the  army , 
had  returned  to  Delaware ;  put  on  citizens'  clothes , 
was  on  a  visit  to  his  brother  now,  and  gave  me  one 
of  the  most  cordial  pressures  of  the  hand  I  ever  re- 
ceived. 

An  hour  afterwards,  Landon  and  myself  had 
strolled  to  Lover's  Leap.  From  the  shadowy  pine 
wood  came  a  pensive  sigh ;  the  murmur  of  the  Shen- 
andoah ascended  to  the  great  rock;  and  on  the 
slopes  of  the  Blue  Ridge  the  red  sunset  fell  in  mel- 
low splendour. 

Landon  leaned  against  the  solitary  pine  and 
mused.  The  hour  subdued  me  too,  and,  resting  my 
head  upon  my  hand,  I  fell  into  a  reverie.  They 
were  bitter  —  those  reveries  —  in  April,  '65,  friend. 
Did  you  dream  then,  as  we  did  ?  I  have  had  pleas- 
anter  dreams. 

Landon  sighed  as  he  gazed  on  the  splendid  land- 
'  scape. 

"  Surrender !  — the  flag  lowered !  "  I  heard  him 
murmur, —  "  we  have  lost  all." 
"  But  me  !  " 

And  a  form  passed  me,  two  tender  arms  clasped 
him ;  the  head  of  Ellen  Adair  was  resting  upon  hif 
heart. 


A  week  afterwards  I  was  at  Eagle's  Nest 


270  INARMS  TO  THE  LAST. 

And  in  this  spring  of  18btf,  I  have  found  time  Ut 
Write  the  history  of  St.  Leger  Landon. 
May  you  like  it,  my  dear  reader  ! 

Busby  of  Eagle's  Nbse- 


r 


Mrs.  Mary  J.  Holmes'  Works. 


TEMPEST  AND  SUNSHINE.  DARKNESS  AND  DAYLIGHT. 

ENGLISH  ORPHANS.  HUG"  WORTHINGTON. 

HOMESTEAD  ON  HILLSIDE.  CAMERON  PRIDE. 

'LENA  RIVERS.  ROSE  MaTHER. 

MEADOW  BROOK.  ETHEL! ^"S  MISTAKE. 

DORA  DEANE.  MILLBANK. 

COUSIN  MAUDE.  EDNA  BROWNING. 

MARIAN  GREY.  WEST  LAWN. 

EDITH  LYLE.  MILDRED. 

DAISY  THORNTON.  FOREST  HOUSE. 

CHATEAU  D'OR.  MADELINE. 

QUEENIE  HETHERTON.  CHRISTMAS  STORIES. 

BESSIE'S  FORTUNE.  GRETCHEN. 
MARGUERITE.  {New.) 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 


Mrs.  Holmes'  stories  are  universally  read.  Her  admirers  are  numberless. 
She  is  in  many  respects  without  a  rival  in  the  world  of  fiction.  Her  characters 
are  always  life-like,  and  she  makes  them  talk  and  act  like  human  beings,  subject 
to  the  same  emotions,  swayed  by  the  same  passions,  and  actuated  by  the  same 
motives  which  are  common  among  men  and  women  of  every-day  existence.  Mrs. 
Holmes  is  very  happy  in  portraying  domestic  life.  Old  and  young  peruse  her 
stories  with  great  delight,  for  she  writes  in  a  style  that  all  can  comprehend." 
— New  York  Weekly. 

The  North.  American  Review,  vol.  81,  page  557,  says  of  Mrs.  Mary 
J.  Holmes'  novel  "English  Orphans": — "With  this  novel  of  Mrs.  Holmes'  we 
have  been  charmed,  and  so  have  a  pretty  numerous  circle  of  discriminating  readers 
to  whom  we  have  lent  it.  The  characterization  is  exquisite,  especially  so  far  as 
concerns  rural  and  village  life,  of  whicn  there  are  some  pictures  that  deserve  to 
be  hung  up  in  perpetual  memory  of  tj-pes  of  humanity  fast  becoming  extinct. 
|  The  dialogues  are  generally  brief,  pointed,  and  appropriate.  The  plot  seems 
simple,  so  easily  and  naturally  is  it  developed  and  consummated.  Moreover,  the 
story  thus  gracefully  constructed  and  written,  inculcates  without  obtruding,  not 
only  pure  Christian  morality  in  general,  but,  with  especial  point  and  power,  the 
dependence  of  true  success  on  character,  and  of  true  respectability  on  merit." 

"Mrs.  Holmes'  stories  are  all  of  a  domestic  character,  and  their  interest, 
therefore,  is  not  so  intense  as  if  they  were  more  highly  seasoned  with  sensation- 
alism, but  it  is  of  a  healthy  and  abiding  character.  The  interest  in  her  tales 
begins  at  once,  and  is  maintained  to  the  close.  Her  sentiments  are  so  sound,  her 
sympathies  so  warm  and  ready,  and  her  knowledge  of  manners,  character,  and 
the  varied  incidents  of  ordinary  life  is  so  thorough,  that  she  would  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  write  any  other  than  an  excellent  tale  if  Bhe  were  to  try  it." — Botton 
Bonner.   

%W  The  volumes  are  all  handsomely  printed  and  bound  in  cloth,  sold  every- 
where, and  sent  by  mail,  postage  free,  on  receipt  of  price  [$1.50  each]. 


G.  W.  DILLINGHAM,  Publisher, 


Successor  to  Q.  W.  CABLET  ON  &  GO., 

33  W.  23d  St.,  NEW  YORK. 


AUGUSTA  J.  EVANS' 


MAGNIFICENT  NOYELS. 

XIEULAH,   $1.75 

ST.  ELMO,  ....  $2.00 

INEZ,   $1.75 

MACAHIA,  ....  $1.75 

VASHTI,         .  .         .         .  $2.00 

IKFELICE,  ....  $2.00 

AT  THE  MEHCir  OF  TIBERIUS  [JYeia),  $2.00 


A  Prominent  Critic  Says  of  these  Novels: 

"The  author's  style  is  beautiful,  chaste  and  elegant. 
Her  ideals  are  clothed  in  the  most  fascinating  imagery, 
and  her  power  of  delineating  character  is  truly  remark- 
able. One  of  the  marked  and  striking  characteristics 
of  each  and  all  her  works,  is  the  purity  of  sentiment 
which  pervades  every  line,  every  page  and  every  chapter," 


All  handsomely  printed  and  bound  in  cloth,  sold  every* 
where,  and  sent  by  mail,  postage  free,  on  receipt  of  price,  by  : 

*Q>  (x.  W.  Dillingham,  Publisher, 

83  "West  23d  Street,  New  York. 


MAY  AGNES  FLEMING'S 

Popular  Novels. 


The  following  is  a  list  of  the  Novels  by  the  Author  ©f 

"Guy  Uarlscourt's  Wife." 


SILENT  AN  I)  TRUE. 

A  WONDERFUL  VvOMAN. 

A  TERRIBLE  SECRET. 

NORINE'S  REVENGE. 

A  MAD  MARRIAGE. 

ONE  NIGHT'S  MYSTERY. 

KATE  D ANTON. 

GUY  EARLSCOURT'S  WIFE. 

HEIR  OF  CHARLTON. 


CARRIED  BY  STORM. 
LOST  FOR  A  WOMAN, 
A  WIFE'S  TRAGEDY. 
A  CHANGED  HEART. 
PRIDE  AND  PASSION. 
SHARING  HER  CRIME. 
A  WRONGED  WIFE. 
MAUDE  PERCY'S  SECRETo 
THE  ACTRESS'  DAUGHTER 


THE  (JUEEN  OF  THE  ISLE  (New). 

These  vols,  can  be  had  at  any  bookstore  in  the  clotiL. 
bound  library  edition.    Price  $1.50. 


Mrs.  Fleming's  stones  are  growing  more  and  more  popular  every  day.  Their 

delineations  of  character,  life-like  conversations,  flashes  of  wit,  constantly 
varying  scenes,  and  deeply  interesting  plots,  combine  to  place 
their  author  in  the  very  first  rank  of  Modern  Novelists." 


All  handsomely  printed  and  bound  in  cloth,  sold  everywhere,  and 
iy  mail,  postage  free,  on  receipt  of  price  ($1.50  each),  by 

G.  W.  DILLINGHAM,  PUBLISHER, 

33  "West  23rd  Street,  New  York. 


MARION  HARLAND'S 


The  following  is  a  list  of  the  Novels  by  the  Author  of 

"  Alone." 


These  vols,  can  be  had  at  any  bookstore  in  the  cloth- 
bound  library  edition,    Price,  $1.50. 


"It  is  a  strong  proof  of  Marion  Harland's  ability,  that  she  has  been  able,  foi 
•nch  a  length  of  time,  to  retain  her  hold  upon  the  public.  The  secret  of  her  eucces* 
is  that  her  books  are  truly  excellent."—  Phila.  Times. 

"  Marion  Harland  understands  the  art  of  constructing  a  plot  which  will  gala 
the  attention  of  the  reader  at  the  beginning,  and  keep  up  tue  interest  unbroken  to 
the  last  page." — Phila.  Telegram. 

"  Marion  Harland  is  very  popular  because  she  is  natural  and  chaste.  She  Is 
welcome  to  the  home  circle  because  she  is  imbued  with  the  holiest  principles.  Sh« 
arranges  her  plots  with  great  skill,  and  developes  them  with  language  commenda- 
ble for  purity  and  earnestness  of  expression."— Lockport  Union. 

"As  a  writer  oi  fiction,  Marion  Harland  has  attained  a  wide  and  well-earned 
■epntation.   Her  novels  are  of  surpassing  excellence  and  interest." — Home  Journal. 


All  handsomely  printed  and  bound  in  cloth,  sold  everywhere 
and  sent  by  mail,  postage  free,  oa  receipt  of  price  ($1-50),  by 


SPLENDID  NOVELS. 


Alone. 

Hidden  Path. 
Moss  Side. 
Nemesis. 
Miriam. 
Sunny  Bank. 


Helen  Gardner. 
Husbands  and  Homes* 
Jessamine. 
True  as  Steel. 


My  Little  Love. 
Phemie's  Temptation. 
The  Empty  Heart. 


At  Last. 


%Q>  (x.  "W.  DlLLIIGHAM,  PUBLISHFK, 

83  "West  S3rd  Street,  New  York. 


t 


Date  Due 


- 

PRINTED 

IN  U.  S.  A. 

